


Leave The Light On

by dorkinabox



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Slow Burn, a very angsty reunion, bc uhm. there is swearing and adult emotions and alcohol/drug use. all that, brief mentions of trans pregnancy, i dont really know what to say beyond that! im winging this a lil bit, i may change the rating to mature a bit later, its not as bad as it sounds but yknow i like to play safe, no proofreading bc i am disabled xx, snufkin is.....a little bit of an asshole and everyone is a bit angry at him, some characters have children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkinabox/pseuds/dorkinabox
Summary: The bridge had been repaired and rebuilt numerous times over the years. Many things in Snufkin’s memory were somewhat blurry and far away, but he remembered that bridge clear as crystal. As he walked over it cautiously, he noticed that the railing was now up to his waist. He remembered when he had to jump to sit on it.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snorkfröken | The Snork Maiden, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 34
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trans pregnancy explicitly mentioned

They all remembered very clearly the spring of which Snufkin didn’t come back to Moominvalley. It was normal for him to be ‘late’ by a few days, or sometimes even a few weeks. One year, he was late by a whole month, and anybody would think Moomintroll had had his throat cut. He always did show up though, eventually.

And then, one spring, he didn’t. They all waited for him, even if not all of them admitted it at first. Moominmama would serve tea and say calmly, “I’m sure he’s just held up. A watched painting never dries, you know,” and they would all hum noncommittally. Moomintroll would say nothing, staring into his teacup. 

However, after the first month of spring passed, even Moominmama began growing restless. Little My often came downstairs to find her staring out the window with a frown on her face, chewing one of her claws, and when she noticed Little My looking at her, she tried to pretend that everything was alright. The truth was that Little My was worried by that point, too. 

The second month of spring passed, and Snufkin was yet to be seen. Moomintroll had stopped waiting outside for him by then. One afternoon, while playing cards with Snorkmaiden, Snorkmaiden angrily said, “oh you just watch, he’ll rock up halfway through summer with some grand story of how he got lost somewhere, and he’ll just expect all of us to forgive him. He thinks he can get away with it. Well, he’ll get a real rude surprise when I get my paws on him. I’ll give him the ear chewing of a lifetime, I swear. Keeping us waiting and worrying like this. Honestly!”

Moomintroll said nothing. Snorkmaiden let him win the game they were playing, because he seemed to be losing a lot lately.

Spring passed, and they were in Summer. Snufkin still didn’t show.

“What if he’s in trouble?” Sniff asked one morning while they ate breakfast, wringing his tail nervously. “He’s never taken this long before.”

“I’m sure he’s just fine, dear, if a bit a lost,” Moominmama said gently, but glanced to Moominpapa. 

“Lost my arse. He’s so vapid, he’s probably gone and forgotten about us,” mumbled Little My scornfully, cheeks red. 

Moominpapa simply hummed lowly. “Well, Mymbles are quite fickle creatures.”

“Pah! Not me!” Little My replied. “I know where my loyalties lay. Just because you lot annoy me, I would never piss off without so much as a ‘see you around’. That’s not being fickle, that’s just being a _prick_.”

“Little My,” Moominmama chastised, “language, please.”

Little My snorted. Moomintroll stood up and silently went upstairs.

Summer turned to Autumn. Snufkin hadn’t showed up. Snorkmaiden was trying extra hard to distract Moomintroll, but it didn’t matter what she did. He always had that tension behind his eyes, like he was going to break down at any minute. His words were always quiet, now, and he rarely smiled. Snorkmaiden found herself growing spiteful towards Snufkin for turning her friend into such a sorry and pitiful mess. 

Sniff’s fear and worry also eventually turned into anger. Everytime he tried to play with Moomintroll, he saw how tired and disinterested Moomintroll had become in regards to everything around him, and it made him mad at Snufkin. He didn’t see how it was fair for them to have to wait around for him while he was probably out having the adventure of a life time.

Little My was never really angry, no matter what she said or did. She was very, very frightened and worried for her little brother. She could just imagine something terrible happening to him on his journey, and being too stubborn and proud to go into a town to ask for help. She knew what sort of person he was.

Moomintroll grew more and more depressed with every passing month. When winter finally came around, and all they could do was stay inside and prepare for hibernation, he barely spoke at all. Moominmama often caught him staring off into nothingness, and it made her want to cry.

Everybody went into hibernation. None of them had seen Snufkin that year.

Moominmama made sure the porch lamp was left on before she joined Moominpapa in bed.

_____________________________________________________________

One by one, the years went by. Moomintroll’s depression seemed to lift as they all got older, and came to terms with the fact that they wouldn’t see Snufkin again. Deep down, perhaps Moomintroll was halfly prepared for it — though that doesn’t mean it stung any less, and that doesn’t mean the first few years without him weren’t incredibly difficult, because they were. Moomintroll fell into a dark pit of sorts many, many times, and his grieving plateaued countlessly. 

Then, they were adults, and ready to venture off for themselves. 

Little My was the first to leave. Her older sister visited one afternoon, and asked Little My if she wanted to come live with her in a city a few regions over. Little My said yes. She shared goodbyes with the Moomin family and was gone within two days. It was more monumental than sad, because they knew she would visit often.

Sniff was the second to go. As he got older, he found himself growing braver and braver, and he often made it a habit to have short adventures outside Moominvalley. One afternoon, he came back after a week long journey with very surprising news to everyone: he had unexpectedly fallen pregnant. It was a stressful time, as he was still quite young and wasn’t sure what to do. Everybody was very supportive, however. Moominpapa even offered to try and contact the Fuzzy and the Muddler to help, to which Sniff vehemently turned down; the Fuddler and his wife the Jumble did pay multiple visits along his pregnancy, though. 

Sniff’s daughter Nappi was born in the summer, delivered by Moominmama, The Mymble (senior), and the Jumble. She had beautiful white fur, short pointy ears, and bright green eyes— she cried good and loud when she came, much to everybody’s relief. After a few weeks recovering, Sniff bundled her up and announced he was going to find a nice new place to raise her, and nobody objected. They shared goodbyes and saw him off. Once again, it was a new chapter, and although melancholic, nobody was sad or mourning. It was a happy time. 

Snorkmaiden stayed for a long time, and so did Moomintroll. Perhaps longer than they should have. Moominmama and Moominpapa were more than happy to let their son stay as long as he wanted, and longer still, but Snorkmaiden feared that he was making excuses for himself, and excuses for Snufkin. 

They were both well in their twenties when Snorkmaiden was ready to leave. Before she did, she took Moomintroll by the paws and said, “please come with me.”

A beg. A plea. She couldn’t bare to watch him wallow in the past anymore. She wanted him to grow and to heal.

Moomintroll left with her.

It was a new chapter, and it was not supposed to be sad; it hadn’t been when Little My left with her sister, and Sniff with his daughter. 

Regardless, when Moomintroll looked behind him and saw that little bridge over the river, so small in the distance, he cried until his vision blurred, and Snorkmaiden held him until he was ready to continue on again. 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a very, very long time since Snufkin had seen Moominvalley. Nothing had changed, yet somehow, it looked so different. Perhaps it was because the mountains were easier to climb, or because the syrisk roses no longer towered over him. It could easily be because that familiar blue house no longer felt as welcoming as it did twenty years ago. 

Snufkin swallowed. He remembered when he returned early one autumn for a quick visit only to find the house completely void of the Moomin family, and the horrible feeling of dread it left in his stomach. As a young boy, the idea of becoming so attached to someone that he was frightened when they were away was too much for him. It still is, if he were honest. He couldn’t possibly say that that was the reason he didn’t come back, because there were many reasons other than that. Too many to count, too many to take into consideration, too many to compare to each other. Too many and too much, and maybe that was a reason in of itself.

The bridge had been repaired and rebuilt numerous times. Many things in Snufkin’s memory was somewhat blurry and far away, but he remembered that bridge clear as crystal. As he walked over it cautiously, he noticed that the railing was now up to his waist. He remembered when he had to jump to sit on it. 

He approached the veranda with a pit in his gut and knocked on the door. There was rustling, a familiar voice of chiming, “yes, yes, be right there,” and then the door opened. 

Moominmama started to say something, but stopped when her eyes met his. She stood nearly deathly still. Snufkin controlled his breathing. “Hi, Moominmama.”

The years had not been merciful Moominmama, as they rarely are with anyone. Her pale yellow fur was now a silvery grey, and her eyes were crinkled in the corners from age. She was still as lovely as ever, Snufkin noted to himself silently, just older. Much, much older.

“Snufkin,” was all she managed to say. She gazed over him and his worn away face. “Oh my, Snufkin. Snufkin, is that really you?” 

Snufkin took off his hat and cleared his throat. “May I come in?”

Moominmama started. “Yes! Yes, of course, I…” she stepped aside and allowed him to come in. “It’s been… would you like some coffee? I already have the kettle on.”

“I would love some, thank you.”

Snufkin sat hesitantly at the table, placing his hat beside him against the chair. 

From in the kitchen, Moominmama called, “we have an electric kettle now, so the water boils much faster.”

“I see,” Snufkin responded politely, though was unsure if Moominmama could hear him.

The inside of Moominhouse was familiar but still so different somehow, just like everything else. Snufkin saw things he recognised -- the same painted portraits done by both Moominmama and Moomintroll, the white crocheted doilies on the cupboards and tables, vases with flowers in them, and herbs strung across the ceiling. He also saw things he didn’t recognise, such as new photographs of children and other people he’d never met, and various trinkets that seem to have been collected from places other than Moominvalley. Among the frames, there was an old polaroid, worn yellow from age, of himself and Little My as young children. Snufkin wondered why they never took it down.

Moominmama came out with two porcelain cups of steaming coffee. “Do you still take it black?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She sat across from him at the wooden table and took a sip from her own cup. 

“Where is Moominpapa?”

“He’s out in the garden, he spends quite a lot of time out there now.”

“Oh, I see, that’s good. Does he still write?”

“Occasionally. Not as much as he used to.”

Snufkin hummed and sipped his coffee. It tasted burnt. He didn’t mind.

Moominmama asked him, “how have you been, dear?”

And Snufkin put his cup back down on the table with a gentle clink. “I’ve… been trudging through life, I suppose. What about you and papa, have you two been well? Does Moomintroll still live with you?” He very swiftly attempted to push the conversation away from himself, as well as slip in that last question. However, he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought he was.

“We are both very well,” Moominmama answered calmly. “Though, I must say, we are slowing down a little. We’re not as sharp as we used to be, you see?”

Snufkin nodded, “oh, I’m very sorry to hear that.”

Moominmama smiled, almost a little sadly. “You needn’t be so formal, Snufkin. Please, do tell me about your travels, you’ve always such interesting stories, and surely you've collected a few from such a long one this time round."

“Oh, well, I…” Snufkin traced a finger along the lip of the cup, where blue lace was painted and glazed. “I don’t know, uhm…” Then, his eyes lit up as he remembered something. “Oh, yes! I have something.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk sack. From that silk sack, he pulled out small stone, no larger than the size of his palm. It was shiny black, polished by a river, and was painted with brown, yellow, and white dots. 

“I travelled across the sea for many, many months on a livestock ship,” he explained as he placed the stone on the table. “We hit land eventually, and it was the hottest place I’ve ever been in, i swear it. The sand was near impossible to walk on without thick boots. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place so hot, but so beautiful. Oh, mama, it was so beautiful. There were these enormous trees with trunks made of coal and leaves like needles. The locals told me they thrive in fire.”

“Goodness!” Moominmama exclaimed, listening very intently.

“Yes, and fire was something that happened very regularly. They just start without warning down there, because the days just get that hot.”

“Fires started by the sun?”

“Yes! In fact, the people who lived there needed to start small fires so bigger ones wouldn’t start.”

“How on earth does that work?”

“They called it burning off. They would gather all the dead leaves and sticks and burn them so they couldn’t be fodder for a larger, more destructive fire! And… well, uh…” Snufkin knew he was rambling, and suddenly felt a little embarrassed. Moominmama simply nodded her head and urged him to say more, but he instead cleared his throat awkwardly.

“And, er… well, they create these beautiful paintings on rocks and the sides of mountains using nothing but dots. They gave me that rock to take back when I left, and I’d like you and Moominpapa to have it.”

Moominmama carefully picked it up and examined it in her paws. “Oh, it’s beautiful, Snufkin, thank you very much.” She then placed it down beside her cup and asked calmly, “how long were you down there? What is this place called?”

“I was there for a couple of months. The ship ride there wasn’t very pleasant, and was very long, so I wasn’t too keen on doing it again,” Snufkin said quietly. Then, “they didn’t have a name for it. When I arrived back in Sweden, however, they all called it ‘The Land Down Below.’”

“The Land Down Below,” Moominmama repeated. “Sounds very mystical.”

“I suppose.”

He took another drink of his coffee. Outside, a bird whistled and cawed.

“Uhm… so, is Moomintroll…?”

“No, dear. He and Snorkmaiden have a house just over the Suuri Joki. He hasn’t lived with us for a very long time now,” Moominmama said. “Neither have Sniff, or Little My.”

Snufkin fell silent for a few moments. Then, “mama, I’m… I didn’t…” he didn’t want to apologise for not returning for so long, because he held no obligation to do so. However, he knew she must have worried for him. They all must have. He regretted that. “I hope my absence didn’t cause any of you to worry.”

Carefully worded. Moominmama inclined her head slightly, humming lowly. “I would be lying to you if I said we weren’t a little distressed. Of course, you were always free to come and go whenever you pleased, but we… I felt very sorry that you didn’t tell us where you were, or if you were alright.”

Snufkin lowered his eyes, shamefully. “It wasn’t my intention for that.”

“Of course not, dear,” sighed Moominmama. “You simply never took it into consideration.”

Snufkin had nothing to defend himself with, so he didn’t even try. Moominmama rested her snout on her paw and looked over him, something blurry behind her eyes.

She looked at Snufkin’s tanned face, littered with old acne marks and sun spots. His red hair hung at his shoulders in years-old knots, and crept down his nose, short and fuzzy. He was taller. His teeth were sharper and stained yellow, his paws were rougher, and he was nearly furry all over, sans for his face and throat. He looked so much older, so much more worn down, and Moominmama felt sad in her chest. 

“Why did you stay away for so long?” She eventually asked. “Did we do something?”

“No!” Snufkin started. “No, you… it wasn’t anything you did. Please don’t think it's your fault.”

“It’s difficult not to blame oneself when you’ve nothing else to blame.”

Snufkin’s ears pressed back, embarrassed. 

“I know you don’t like to hear it,” Moominmama said softly, “but we missed you terribly.”

“Yes.”

“Whatever your reasoning was, I won’t pretend like I understand.” 

Snufkin felt it would’ve been less painful had she yelled at him, but he knew Moominmama wasn’t that sort of person. He knew he hadn’t made her mad; he just let her down. 

It was at that point the back door flung open, and Moominpapa trudged inside with dirt on his paws and a straw hat (replacing the black one Snufkin was so accustomed to seeing him in). He also looked much, much older than what Snufkin remembered, and perhaps even a bit larger. Moomins just never stopped growing, it seemed.

“Moominmaiden, have we any egg shells left? I think the tomatos need a little kick,” he hung his hat on the door handle. “Such delicate things, I really hope -- oh, hello.”

Moominpapa looked at Snufkin with zero recognition, and Snufkin felt very sorry all of a sudden.

“Why, I didn’t know we had a guest.”

“Yes, dear,” Moominmama said, turning in her chair to face him. “ _Snufkin_ came for a visit.” She emphasised on his name. 

“Snufkin…” repeated Moominpapa, furrowing his brow. Then, his slow nod suddenly quickened and his brow raised. “Oh! Snufkin! Yes, _Snufkin_! Well, curse my old tail, it’s been years. Forgive my memory, my boy, it’s not what it used to be.”

“Quite alright,” Snufkin replied, “it’s good to see you, papa.”

“You look positively dreadful!”

Snufkin opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, “...ah. Well. I’ve been on the road for a while.”

“We're having coffee, would you like some?” Moominmama asked her husband, diverting the conversation. 

“Yes, but i’ll fetch it! You stay right there.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen. After a few beats, he came back out and said, “er, where is the coffee again?”

Moominmama smiled, half exasperated, half fond. “Sit, darling, i’ll get it.”

Moominpapa sat at the table as Moominmama went into the kitchen. He sat at the adjacent side of the table to Snufkin and turned his whole body towards him. “Now, what have you been getting up to?”

“I’ve been around,” replied Snufkin as politely as he could. “Here, there, anywhere and everywhere.”

Moominpapa frowned. “Hm. Quite. Is your sister aware you’re back, she’d be pleased to see you.”

“Uhm,” Snufkin quickly made the assumption that he was talking about Little My, and not the forty other sisters he had. “No, I wouldn’t think so.”

“No? Surely you’ve been to see Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden. Word travels fast with those two, i’m sure she knows already.”

Snufkin’s face went a little red. “I -- er, well… uhm --”

“Gracious, my boy, haven’t you given anyone a little warning? It’s not as if you dropped off the face of the earth.”

Well, Snufkin thought rather sadly.

“Dear,” Moominmama appeared with a cup and saucer, and handed it to Moominpapa, “why don’t you have your coffee outside? It’s such a lovely day, and we’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“Splendid idea,” Moominpapa replied. He went outside and brought his saucer with him, giving Snufkin a nod of the head before leaving.

Moominmama sat in his chair, closer to Snufkin than before, and said to him quietly, "I'm sorry. He wasn’t being snide. His memory is leaving him a little, you see.” She smiled sadly. “He probably thinks you’ve only been gone for a year or so.”

“Oh,” Snufkin replied and didn’t say anything else. The coffee in his cup had gone lukewarm and he didn’t particularly feel like drinking the rest.

Moominmama put her paw on his arm and asked, “would you like to say for dinner?”

Snufkin was unsure, but said nodded anyway.

_______________________________________________________________________

Moominmama made a rice pie with capsicum picked fresh from the garden, and they ate on the back porch table. Snufkin told details of his travels upon being asked, without going into too much detail. He also noticed that Moominpapa occasionally asked the same question twice or even three times, and Snufkin answered them again and again as patiently as he could. Moominmama appeared perfectly used to it -- that, and the fact that she was naturally just a patient person.

As the evening went on, Snufkin felt the ever looming weight of not being truly welcome, only politely hosted. 

When he was offered a korvapuusti for desert, he declined, and offered to help clean up instead (and Moominmama declined that in turn).

Snufkin lit his pipe on the now-quiet porch. The cicadas sang in the dark night, and something about their song sounded melancholic. The window behind him leading into the kitchen were illuminated yellow against blue night. After a short while of being out there on his own, Moominmama came out to join him, drying her paws on her apron.

“Where are you going to go now?” she asked. _‘Because you can’t stay here_ ’ hung silently in the air.

Snufkin exhaled smoke and shrugged. “I don’t know. Keep on moving, I suppose.”

Moominmama watched him for a few careful second. “You’re going to go see him, aren’t you? Or at least, you want to.”

Snufkin said nothing. Moominmama closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, she seemed very tired. Snufkin simply rubbed his forehead with his knuckles.

“Over the Suuri Joki, you said?”

“Snufkin.”

Snufkin looked at her. He could almost see something akin to disdain in her eyes, but swore it couldn't be true.

“I know telling you not to will only make you want to go even more,” Moominmama said. “So i won’t tell you to leave him well alone.” Silence. Then, “but just know that he’s already grieved you once. I’m not sure he can do it again.”

Snufkin said nothing else, and Moominmama knew he wouldn’t say anything else for the rest of the night, so she thanked him for the visit, and went back inside.


	3. Chapter 3

The Suuri Joki was a large river that stretched over the edge of Moominvalley. On the other side, a town had been built. Not a massive, machine-based city (as Snufkin was fearing), but just a small town with houses and markets scattered about. Trees and flowers were still plentiful, and the piers on the beach was small and non-disruptive. 

As Snufkin stepped off the sailboat, he thanked the young hemulen girl for giving him a ride.

“No issue at all, sir,” she replied as she roped the ship onto the wooden dock. Snufkin cringed inwardly at being called ‘sir’. “It's a helluva long ride. Visiting family?”

“Well, er…”

“Ohh, you’re a Mumrik, hm? I suppose you’re just passing through.”

“No, I’m visiting some old friends.”

The hemulen girl smiled. “Ah, hope they’re well. I’m here quite often, so if you catch me again, don’t be shy to ask for another ride.”

“Thank you very much.”

People were somewhat kinder to him as an older man, he noted. As a child, if he dared ask a hemulen for a free ride on their boat, he would’ve gotten a few nasty words (and perhaps objects) thrown at him. Then again, he thought, perhaps young hemulens were just simply nicer than the older ones were.

The sun was rising, and the sky was a warm purple, orange along the horizon. Snufkin always loved this time of day. 

He walked up the wooden planks of wood that had been jammed into the uphill dunes, listening to sea birds call. The small pathway was shielded with tall panicgrass. As he came up, he saw the small town more closely. There were stone pathways in the grass, and brick buildings with moss and vines growing up the sides. It seemed pleasant enough, Snufkin could admit. There were a few trolls scattered about, seemingly opening up their market stalls.

A tall stone tower stood at the center with a golden bell atop of it. 

Snufkin approached it and craned his head to look up at it.

“G’morning, traveller! Hi, traveller, excuse me! Good morning!” A very enthusiastic voice yelled, and when Snufkin looked over his shoulder, he saw a very young and round troll with yellow fur and green eyes walking past him. Beside her, holding her paw and dragging her along, was a young Fuzzy of some sort with white fur, a scarf around her neck, and a strange looking tail. She was shushing the other troll angrily, and waving apologetically to Snufkin. Snufkin waved back.

“Would you like to come to our cafe? We make pastries!”

“Er --”

“Basil, be quiet, people are still sleeping,” The Fuzzy whisper-hissed. “I’m very sorry, sir.”

Ah, there was that ‘sir’ again. Snufkin was only in his thirties, surely he didn’t look that old. 

“Quite alright,” Snufkin replied, “I think I might come find your store a little later, a pastry sounds nice.”

“We’re opening right now!” The younger troll said loudly, stopping in her tracks. “Come! We’ll give you a raspberry crown.”

The Fuzzy kept trying to pull her, and was failing. “You can’t just give out food to strangers for free.”

“Well, why not! Papa says money will ruin the world one day.”

Quite right, Snufkin thought to himself, amused. But regardless, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a grass-thread satchel. “I have money,” he told them, showing them the small sack. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Oh, well…” The Fuzzy frowned. Her tail -- thin and long with a tuft of fur at the end -- flicked back and forth. “Well, okay, I shouldn’t turn down customers. You’ll have to wait until we set up, though.”

“That’s alright by me.”

The younger troll squealed and grabbed his paw, pulling him along, much to Snufkin’s sudden surprise. However, Snufkin felt perfectly happy to amuse a couple of children with silly matters such as money and purchases. If it were another adult, he’d probably have zero reservations taking a pastry for free. Perhaps that was his mymble side coming out a little.

The two young girls lead him to a small brick cottage with wooden tables scattered about outside. The Fuzzy pulled out a key tucked in her scarf, and unlocked the wooden door. She then took out a small clay lion from the corner and propped the door open with it.

“You can sit down if you like,” she said to Snufkin, and then to the younger troll, “ _you_ take the chairs down, and _be careful_.”

The Fuzzy then disappeared behind the counter and glass display (which was empty). 

Snufkin was lead to a small table close to the same glass display by the younger troll (who was named Basil, if Snufkin remembered correctly). She very carefully pulled down a chair, which was a little bigger than her, and Snufkin raised a worry paw. “Do you need any help?”

She replied, “No, I can do it! Oof,” she set the chair down and turned to him with a smile. “Here! You sit here, ok?” 

She said it rather finally, and Snufkin smiled. “Okay.”

He took his pack and hat off, and set them both on the floor beside them, before sitting down obediently. Basil went around and began taking the chairs off the tables one by one. Snufkin was terrified that she would topple over, given how small she was compared, but she seemed to handle it just fine.

The inside of the little cafe was almost like a house, with stained glass windows and various paintings scattered across the brick walls. It was very cosy, as far as stores go.

When all the chairs had been taken down and placed by their respective tables, Basil came over and sat next to Snufkin. She looked up at him rather enthusiastically, and Snufkin returned the stare.

“Where are you from?”

“Somewhere far from here.”

Basil nodded as if she had just been told some very serious information. “And what’s your name?”

“I’m Snufkin.”

“Well yeah, but what’s your _name_?”

“Snufkin _is_ my name.”

"Oh. So your name is Snufkin, and you're also a snufkin?"

Snufkin rested his chin against his paw and smiled. He was aware of how naming conventions had changed over the years. It was very rare to come across someone who went by their species name, and he was very amused by Basil’s wonder at that.

“Well,” he said very gently, “calling us snufkins is considered quite derogatory. I’m a Mumrik.”

“What does der-ag-troy mean?”

“Derogatory means… not very nice. If something is derogatory, then it’s offensive or upsetting.”

“But you’re name is Snufkin!”

“Snufkin is my name, but not my species.”

Basil frowned very deeply at that. Then, “you’re weird. But I like you anyway. I like your fur. My name is Basil, and that’s my cousin Nappi.”

“Nice to meet you, Basil. Thank you,” Snufkin said, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of the fact that he hadn’t brushed it in a very long time. “I like your’s, too.”

Basil lit up. “My mama says it's just like her’s, and she is the most beautiful person I know.” She paused. Then, “she tells me to say that.”

Snufkin laughed lightly. “Well. I’ve no problem believing it. Do you and your cousin run this bakery all by yourselves?”

“No, its my mama and papa’s bakery, but we help a lot.”

Snufkin was started by a loud scraping noise, and upon looking up, saw the Fuzzy opening the glass display from behind. She loaded little cakes and pies onto the small shelves from a tray she was carrying on one arm.

“Nappi, can I please have a butter bun?” Basil asked very, very sweetly. 

Nappi frowned for a few seconds, before taking a small bread roll with a cream filling and placing it on the counter. “Go on then,” she said, and popped another one in her mouth too. “Don’t tell your mum and dad though, I’m not supposed to let you eat the goods.”

Basil jumped from the chair and snatched up the butter bun excitedly. “Mister Snufkin, do you want one? We have lots of other nice things too!”

“Just Snufkin, please, none of that ‘mister’ nonsense,” Snufkin said. Then, “whatever’s cheapest, I’ll have that.”

“It all costs the same,” Nappi replied. For a girl who appeared quite young, she also spoke rather precociously. “Uhmm… I read that Mumrikar eat fish. We have salmon puffs.” She then glanced up to Snufkin rather nervously. “You are a Mumrik, right? I just assumed because of your nose. I shouldn’t do that.”

Snufkin didn’t respond, because it appeared as if she were talking mostly to herself.

“He’s a Mumrik, he told me so,” Basil said with a mouth full of sweet cream. “Because I thought he was a snufkin and he said he’s actually a Mumrik.”

“You --?” Nappi gasped and turned to Snufkin. “I’m so, so sorry!” Then back to Basil. “You rotten little -- ! Don’t ever call anyone that!”

“But his name _is_ Snufkin!”

Nappi turned to Snufkin yet again, surprised. “Your name is… _Snufkin_?” 

Snufkin blinked. He hadn’t even had a chance to respond yet. He wondered how children could be so lively so terribly early in the morning. “Er, on the topic of that pastry, I’d actually prefer something a little sweet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh. Uhm,” Nappi frowned thoughtfully at the shelves. Then, she reached in and pulled out a raspberry crown. “Well, you were promised one of these, so you can have it.” She placed it on the counter. “Basil, give that to him. So your name really is Snufkin?”

Basil grabbed the pastry with her free paw and handed it to Snufkin, who took it very hesitantly. “Thank you. Yes, it is, it’s from back when that was what we were called. How much is that by the way?”

“Two gold coins, or four silvers, or eight coppers,” Basil responded as if she had rehearsed it many times. Snufkin tipped out four silvers from his grass thread satchel onto the table, gathered them into his hand, and gave them to Basil. Basil counted them in her palm, nodded very seriously, and then placed them on the counter for Nappi to put into the cash register.

“I’ve never met anyone who went by their species name,” Nappi said. “Other than my uncle and auntie… and my grandma and grandpa.”

Snufkin smiled. “Yes, it's a bit outdated.”

The pastry was very tasty, if a bit rustic. As he ate, he watched as Basil went around and opened all the windows (she had to jump up and rest her belly on the sill in order to push them all the way open, and Snufkin thought that was very cute.)

By now, the sky was finally beginning to turn a lighter blue, and people were beginning to stir outside.

When Snufkin finished his pastry, he stood up, putting his hat and pack back on. 

Basil immediately looked distraught. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I have some people I need to see today. Thank you for the sweet.”

“But -- but it’s still really early, nobody’s awake. Do you like coffee? We make coffee here too.” She took hold of Snufkin’s much larger paw. “Please stay a bit longer, Snufkin, Nappi’s mean to me when no one’s looking.”

“I am _not_!” Nappi gasped over the counter. “Not letting you run haywire and do whatever you want isn’t being mean!”

“You call me a thick skull!”

“Well don’t act like a thick skull and i won’t call you that.”

“A-alright, alright, I can stay a little longer,” Snufkin interjected. He patted Basil’s paws with his other one. “Just a bit, ok? And then I have to come back later.”

Basil lit up. “Okay!” She pulled him back to sit down, and Snufkin landed back in the chair with a grunt. She was a lot stronger than she looked. “So you said you were from somewhere far away, but where?”

“Well, I don’t know, I’ve been travelling as long as I can remember.”

“That long? What about your mama and papa, where are they from?”

“My mother is finnish, i’m assuming, and my father is the same as me.”

“He doesn’t know where he’s from either?” Basil seemed absolutely mystified by that prospect. “So you can just tell people you’re from wherever! I wish I was french.”

Snufkin’s brow raised. “Why on earth do you wish you were french?”

“Because I like how they talk. I want to learn it."

“Nonsense,” Snufkin responded, “the french language is not very appealing at all. Have you ever even spoken it?”

At that, Nappi interjected. “She speaks lots of languages, she’s obsessed with them. She learns them in her free time,” and Snufkin suddenly understood why she was so intent on learning where he was from. He was very surprised to hear that a girl as young as Basil studied linguistics as a hobby. He still remembered how much he hated having to learn a new language every time he travelled somewhere. Of course, it was a valuable skill to have, but that didn’t make the task any less difficult and tedious.

“How many do you speak?” Snufkin asked her curiously.

“Three! Oh, uh…” She frowned for a few seconds. “No, four! I can talk swedish and danish and english and finnish!”

“That’s very impressive, little one,” Snufkin said. It was very common to come across children who could speak two or three languages, but four really was rather marvelous. Snufkin only spoke three himself, with only bits and pieces of others. Speaking swedish in finland was a given as there were many speakers; danish he supposed was easy as it was quite literally right below them; english baffled him a little. “Why english?”

Basil grinned cheekily, like she wasn’t allowed to say what she was about to say: “because it sounds really dumb.”

Snufkin couldn’t help but laugh that absolutely absurd reason, and Basil giggled in absolute delight. 

He spoke with Basil for a little longer, before customers began slowly coming into the bakery.

As much as he genuinely was enjoying talking with the six year old, he eventually put his hat back on and said, “ah, I must be on my way now, I’m afraid.”

Basil deflated, but didn’t argue.

“Don’t look like that, little beast, I’m only leaving for a bit. I’ll come back to visit a little later, ok?”

“Okay,” Basil said, but wasn’t very happy about it.

As he left, Nappi waved to him over the counter, and he waved back.

What an interesting couple of kids, he thought to himself fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i find responding to comments a little difficult sometimes so im sorry if i dont always respond. Just know that i always read them over and over again and they REALLY make my day (:
> 
> also basil is 100% based on me as a lil kid because i also harassed strangers in the street and thought english sounded dumb


	4. Chapter 4

By eight am, the main area for the town was quite busy. It wasn’t unbearably so, but the few people around were bustling, talking and buying things, and children played around everyone’s feet. 

Snufkin asked a stall keeper selling dried fruit if there was a Moomintroll who lived in this town. The man rubbed his furry chin and said, “hmm yeah, a fella called Moomintroll lives here alright. I don’t know where his house is, though.”

Snufkin thanked him anyway and moved on. He asked various people and stall keepers, and they all had the same response; they did know who he was talking about, but weren’t entirely positive on where his house was.

After about half an hour, he eventually asked a fillyjonk woman who looked him up and down before saying, “yes, I know where he lives. Who wants to know, though?”

“I’m an old friend.”

“Not much of a friend if you don’t know where he lives.”

Snufkin frowned. Fillyjonkar had always been rather difficult to him for no reason. “Can I have the address or not?”

The Fillyjonk hummed and pointed to the distance, where the hills framed the town. There, Snufkin squinted and could see a cottage of some sort. It seemed a little further away than the other houses in the hills. “It's the one with all the roses, you see it?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Snufkin mumbled and didn’t take his eyes off of the house. The Fillyjonk continued on her way.

That cottage in those hills was so far away, but seem to cast a huge, looming shadow. It was right there, right in his reach. It was so easy -- easy to find, easy to come back to. Snufkin found that a little frightening. 

He didn’t go right away. He loitered around the town, procrastinating as much as he could. He went into a small book store and read a book on gardening for a short while. It was small and fit in the palm of his hand, so he slipped it into his pocket before he left; it had some helpful tips in it. The storekeeper didn’t seem to notice, and waved brightly as Snufkin left.

After that, he went back out to the main square to find a young muddler with large, floppy ears playing a viola by the small bell tower, the case opened at his feet for donations. Snufkin, instead of giving a coin, pulled out his harmonica and asked if he could join. The muddler grinned wide, whiskers wiggling, and said, “I’m playing in D major, try to keep up.”

And keep up, Snufkin did. The two of them attracted somewhat of a crowd who clapped along and laughed. The atmosphere was friendly. Snufkin almost forgot about the dread in his stomach.

It was midday when he finally ran out of breath. He shook hands with the violinist, who introduced himself as Lynks. Lynks asked if he wanted any of the coins that had been thrown into the case, and Snufkin politely declined.

“Aye, come on sir, good playing deserves good pay.”

“I play for enjoyment, not for money,” Snufkin said. “But thank you anyway.”

Lynks leaned against the bell tower. “How long have you been playing harmonica?”

“All my life. I stole this one from a merchant when I was a small child and just taught myself.”

“Impressive,” Lynks remarked, eyebrow raised. “My father taught me how to play everything I know.”

“You should try writing something so you can teach your own children.”

Lynks laughed, “I couldn’t. I’m not very creative.”

“Sure you are. Everyone is, in one way or another.”

Lynks and Snufkin spoke for a little while, before Lynks began to play again, and Snufkin slipped away as people came closer to listen. 

The town was friendly, with a few exceptions that Snufkin could overlook. He enjoyed being in towns that felt like everyone was friends with each other. That, and it was only a couple of hours boat ride from Moominvalley, which Snufkin thought was the most beautiful place he’d ever been to (and he had been many places). He could see why Moomintroll chose to live here.

_Moomintroll_. Snufkin breathed deeply, and his ribcage felt like it was too small for his heart. 

When late afternoon rolled around, Snufkin found himself back down at the beach, surrounded by the small scatter of wooden docks. A seabird cawed above him. 

Snufkin had always been comforted by the beach. Perhaps the smell of seawater was some sort of primal memory, or maybe he felt a kinship to the way the water came in and out as it pleased. Nobody ever got upset at the ocean. Maybe he was jealous of that. He walked up and down the shoreline until the sun setted over the water, and everything was orange for a few minutes, before darkening into twilight.

He had a memory of coming down to the beach in Moominvalley with not just Moomintroll, but with Snorkmaiden, Sniff, and Little My too. They had stolen a bottle of raspberry wine from deep, deep in the cellar, and snuck out all together at night. They had passed the bottle around, and laughed and talked until sunrise. 

That sunrise was probably the most at peace he had been. Moomintroll had held his paw then, when everyone had fallen asleep, and the two of them leant against each other and watched the sky turn from night to day.

Those memories only made him sad now. Snufkin lit his pipe.

He smoked until his throat began to hurt, and by then, he supposed he had stalled enough. He dumped the remaining tobacco into a patch of panicgrass in the sand and tracked back up the sand dunes into town.

Even at night, the town seemed lively. Lanterns were now lit, and the streets looked like they were covered in glow flies. Snufkin had always been quite good at directions, so recalling what the fillyjonk in the pink dress had told him, he made his way through the town and to the skirt, where it met forest. There was a dirt path shielded by trees. Snufkin followed it.

As he walked, he ran through every possible outcome in his mind: first the worst, and second the best. The worst would be that Moomintroll would simply refuse to talk to him, or even look at him, that he would have the door slammed in his face. The best would be Moomintroll crushing him in a hug that felt so warm and so much like home, Snufkin would never want to let go. Each possibility made him sad. In fact, there didn’t seem to be one that didn’t give him a pit in his stomach.

Snufkin reached the cottage surrounded by roses after about five minutes of walking. The lights were on.

It’s fine, he told himself, it’ll all be fine.

Snufkin approached the door. He could hear soft conversation and movement inside. When he raised his fisted paw to knock, he was suddenly overcome with a fear that made him freeze.

It’s not fine, he told himself, this is a mistake.

Snufkin knocked anyway.

There was more movement, a child’s voice shouting, “I’ll get it!” and the door opened.

Basil stared at Snufkin for a few seconds, and Snufkin stared back, somewhat confused. Basil lit up.

“Snufkin! You found my house!”

“I -- huh?”

Basil grabbed Snufkin’s paw and tried pulling him, but Snufkin kept his boots firmly planted.

“Come on, come inside!”

“I can’t,” Snufkin said, trying not to be frantic.

“Why not?”

Inside, a voice called, “who is it, darling?”

Snufkin’s blood went cold at that voice.

“It’s my friend from the bakery!” Basil shouted back. 

Snufkin heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps were suddenly coming closer. “Well, come on, invite them in.”

Basil turned to the voice, deflated, and said, “he doesn’t want to come in.”

A large, silver Moomin with blue eyes came into the doorframe, and when he looked up and saw Snufkin, he froze. Snufkin did too.

In fact, everything around them seemed to freeze.

“Basil, honey, why don’t you go help your brother gather up the dishes?”

The young troll looked as if she was about to complain, but one cool look from her father made her reconsider. She left the two men alone, looking very nervous.

“Moomintroll.”   
  
Snufkin couldn’t help it. Slight excitement leaked out of his voice upon seeing him. Moomintroll simply stared, as if he had no idea what to do or say.    
  
“... Snufkin,” he said, rather blankly.    
  
Snufkin felt his stomach sink. “Moomintroll,” he repeated quieter.    
  
“I — what are you —?” Moomintroll cleared his throat. “You’re okay.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I am, er...”

“You’re back.”

“Yeah.”

The conversation didn’t progress any further. They simply stared at each other. 

Moomintroll had changed so much. He was bigger and rougher around the edges. His paws were big, and his eyes were hard, and his stomach jutted out. He had grown up from a that snowy-fur little  Moomintroll into a grown troll with shoulders broad and a voice so much deeper. Snufkin was unsure how to feel about that. 

And yet, there was still that familiar softness about him. He appeared a little frightening on the outside, but as soon as he saw those eyes, he knew that this was his same gentle and caring Moomintroll who would never so much as hurt a fillyjonk’s feelings. 

“You look different,” Moomintroll said simply. Snufkin blinked. Had he been thinking the exact same thing as him? 

“So do you. You, uh…” Snufkin flushed. “You’re... big.”

Finally, a bit of good humour crossed Moomintroll’s face, and his brow raised. “Maybe you just shrunk, under that wicker basket on your head. You look like you’re about eighty percent fur now.”

Snufkin smiled.

“... would you like to come inside?”

“I would, yeah.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trans pregnancy briefly hinted at in this chapter, but not explicitly said

There was something warm and cosy about the inside of Moomintroll’s house. It resembled Moominhouse in a funny way -- probably not intentional, Snufkin thought. There was lacy decorations scattered about, framed photographs, old oak furniture, and drawings clearly created by children pinned up. 

They had electricity, which Snufkin found surprising. Moomintroll used to find the idea of having electricity inside a common household rather pretentious. Snufkin supposed that it had simply become a common thing over the years.

Snufkin followed Moomintroll through the walkway and out into a living room, where a dining table was. At the table was another troll, seemingly a bit older than Basil, with a deep green mane and glasses sitting on his snout. His fringe framed his face in a strange, wavy bowl-cut. He was drawing something with a ball-pointed pen. Moomintroll gave the child a pointed look.

“Did you help Basil clean up the table?”

“She didn’t ask,” the troll replied blankly. 

“That doesn’t matter, you should help anyway.” Moomintroll pulled out a chair, and motioned to it, for Snufkin to sit, but Snufkin didn’t quite get that at first. “Pudding, this is an old friend of mine from when I was your age.”

The young troll -- Pudding -- looked up at Snufkin. Then at Moomintroll, and then back to Snufkin. “Hello.”

Snufkin smiled. “Hi. My name is Snufkin.”

“Ohh,” Pudding went back to doodling on paper. “You’re the hairy guy Basil kept going on about. She wouldn’t shut up about you all afternoon.”

Snufkin frowned, suddenly feeling like he was being scolded for something. His cheeks were pink when he mumbled, “ah. I see.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Moomintroll said. “I’d offer coffee, but its rather late, and if Basil sees us drinking it, she’ll want some. Oh, don’t be so stiff. Sit down, will you?”

Snufkin sat awkwardly, and Moomintroll disappeared into the kitchen. After a few quiet moments, he leant over and asked Pudding, “what are you drawing?”

“I dunno,” Pudding replied, even though he was very clearly drawing what appeared to be an animal of some sort. 

“It looks like a cat.”

“It could be.”

Snufkin smiled, amused. Pudding seemed to be one of those children that drove adults absolutely insane, and Snufkin liked that a lot. 

Pudding didn’t look up from his drawing when he asked, “so you’re papa’s friend from ages ago?”

“That’s right. I’ve known him since he was only about ten years old.”

“And he’s like forty now. That _is_ a long time.” 

“Well, that can’t be right, because i’m thirty eight, and he’s two younger than me,” Snufkin said, though he said it with no level of certainty. He never knew his own birthday, and his mother only remembered the year. Sometimes, he got the time mixed up. He often relied on the ages of the people around him. 

At that point, Moomintroll and Basil came back out. Moomintroll had a porcelain teapot in one paw two cups in the other, and Basil carried two cups of her own.

“Are you forty?” Snufkin asked as the cups were placed down. 

“What? No, I’m thirty six. Pudding, did you tell him i’m _forty_?”

Pudding laughed, face still down, and said, “oh, I’ve been telling people you’re forty.”

Moomintroll’s fur puffed. “Well! Then everyone must think I look damn good for my age. Do you want tea, Pudding?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

Pudding sighed a signature tired child sigh, “No _thank you_.”

Basil, however, sat right beside Snufkin and pushed her cup towards Moomintroll enthusiastically. “Me, please!”

Moomintroll poured her tea from the pot. “It’s hot, drink it slowly.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Snufkin,” Moomintroll said, raising the pot. Snufkin held up one of the cups and let him pour tea into it. Moomintroll then poured himself some. “I’d offer you milk, but we have none.”

“That’s fine,” Snufkin took a sip.

It felt formal somehow, just like it did at Moominhouse. 

If Basil had sensed the tense atmosphere somehow earlier, it didn’t seem to be effecting her now. She tugged on Snufkin’s sleeve with her little yellow paw. “Isn’t it so crazy that, uhm --” she took a quick sip of her tea, “-- that we became friends and then it turns out that you’re already friends with my papa.”

“It’s a small world,” Moomintroll remarked quietly. 

Snufkin didn’t respond. 

“Do you know my mama too?”

“Er, well.” Snufkin looked at Moomintroll. 

“He does. In fact, she should be coming home about now…” Moomintroll glanced at a clock that hung on the wall. “If we’re lucky, she’ll bring leftovers from the bakery.”

“I hope there’s bee stings left,” Pudding said.

“Since when do you like bee stings?” Moomintroll asked.

“Since always.”

Basil said, “no, you don’t like honey!”

“I don’t like honey on its own, I like it in cakes.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does too. You like onion in your soup, but would you eat a raw onion on its own?”

As the two siblings back-and-forthed with each other, Snufkin glanced to Moomintroll. He had his chin rested on his paw, amusedly watching his children have their inane bicker. _His_ children. For some reason, that sounded unusual in Snufkin’s mind.

“Do you know why its called bee sting cake?” Snufkin asked gently, and the two children paused and looked at him expectantly. 

“... because it has honey it,” Pudding said, though his tone of voice welcomed a challenge.

Snufkin took a sip of his tea. “Well, the short answer to that is, yes. But the baker who invented the recipe stole that honey from a bees nest.”

Basil gasped. “Why would he do that? Bees are so scary.”

“Oh, no. They’re quite lovely creatures if you’re nice to them. But of course, they aren’t when stolen from. The baker made the bees very upset. They worked very hard to make that honey, only to have some baker come along and take it without asking first. It's not even as if they were keeping it from anybody anyway. The baker thought he had gotten away with it, too, so he just went about his business, no idea that the bees were plotting their revenge.”

Basil leaned on her elbows, staring at Snufkin like he was the most wonderful thing in the entire world. Pudding appeared sceptical, but was listening just as intently.

“He made the cake. Flour, eggs, sugar, what have you. He saved the honey for last, to glaze the top with after it was baked. While he did this, the bees silently surrounded his house. Then, as the baker completed his cake, honey and almonds on top, he opened the window to set it on the sill to allow it to cool.”

“And that’s when the bees struck!” Basil cried. 

“Oh, yes. They stabbed him all over with their great big stingers, poisoning him, and then leaving him to die on the floor of his own kitchen.” Snufkin took another sip of tea. “And then the bees ate his cake and went home.”

Basil and Pudding stared at him with wide eyes, before Basil grinned and announced very loudly, “I like that story!”

“Bit violent,” Moomintroll commented cheekily, though he too was staring at Snufkin, just like Basil was. 

Snufkin said nothing and continued drinking his tea.

It was at that point, the front door clicked opened. Moomintroll sprung into action almost as soon as the sound was heard, and so did Basil -- though, she seemed to be considerably more excited that Moomintroll. Pudding remained seated at the table. Snufkin did too.

Snufkin heard Basil shout, “Hi mama!” and a woman’s voice say, “hi baby, how was your -- hm?”

Then, hushed murmuring, too quiet for Snufkin to distinguish real words. He caught bits and pieces of _‘who_ ?’ and _‘in the living room_ ’ and ‘ _right now?_ ’.

Quick footsteps drew closer, and Snufkin tensed. He looked to the side and saw Snorkmaiden standing in the walkway entrance, a paper bag in one arm, and Basil scooped up in the other. She stared at Snufkin with an emotional he couldn’t gage. 

Snorkmaiden’s fur and mane had grown out a lot since Snufkin had last seen her. Her fringe sat around her face in blonde waves, and she had a pair of golden studs in her ears. She was taller, too. Her brown eyes were wide.

Snufkin stood from the chair, awkwardly. “Hi.”

Snorkmaiden looked him up and down, as if she couldn’t even believe he was standing there.

Then, she said in a high voice, “Snufkin? Snufkin... I --” Her mouth quivered. "Oh my god. Snufkin."

Snufkin blinked and didn’t answer, unsure what to do, or say. They stared at each other for a few quiet moments.

“Mama,” Basil wiggled in Snorkmaiden’s arm until she put her down. “Mama, listen, Snufkin came into the bakery today and I gave him a raspberry crown and I told him the price. I said, two gold coins, or four silvers, or eight coppers, just like you and papa told me.”

“Oh,” Snorkmaiden smoothed down her daughter’s maine. “Good job, I’m proud of you.”

Basil beamed. “And we’re having tea now!”

“Mama, did you bring any cakes back?” Pudding asked.

Snufkin (Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll too) was very glad that the children were there to ease some of the tension in the room.

Snorkmaiden held up the paper bag. “Yes, I did.”

Moomintroll took the paper bag from here. “Sit down, I’ll serve these out.” He kissed Snorkmaiden’s cheek and once again disappeared into the kitchen.

Basil pulled Snorkmaiden hard by her paw, causing Snorkmaiden to stumble.

“Basilika, don’t _yank_ me like that,” she scolded, and hastily wiped her eyes, but otherwise allowed the child to drag her along to a chair at the table. Snorkmaiden next to where Moomintroll was seated, across from Snufkin, and beside Pudding. 

Basil plopped back beside Snufkin, and Snufkin sat down too.

The silence that followed was painful and lasted for about five seconds, before Snorkmaiden cleared her throat. Snufkin looked at her.

“Snufkin, I…” She inhaled sharply, composing herself, and then gestured vaguely with her paws. “So, where have you been? _How_ have you been? I mean we haven't seen you in -- god, I don't know. Too long."

“Oh, er… I’ve been well.” He scratched his chin nervously. “And you?”

Snorkmaiden frowned. “... _Have_ you been well?”

“Yes, of course.”

“...I see. And where have you been?”

Snufkin blushed, suddenly feeling interrogated. He stared at the table for a few moments, before shrugging awkwardly. “Lots of places, I suppose.”

“Lots of places,” Snorkmaiden repeated. “You haven’t changed a bit. And did any of these places have, I don’t know, a post office?”

Snufkin stared at her and didn’t respond. 

“You were gone a long time, did you ever think to maybe write us? Tell us you were alright?”

“I --” Snufkin’s face was now burning. “Well, I… er…”

Moomintroll suddenly came in and announced a little too loudly, “wow, look at that Pudding, mama _did_ bring home some bee sting cake!” He placed the lovely glass plate with a various assortment of small pastries in the middle of the table. “I don’t suppose you brought some milk too?”

“No, I didn’t know we were out,” Snorkmaiden said. “I was just asking Snufkin about his recent travels.” She looked back at him as she said this.

“Oh, well,” Moomintroll let out an awkward laugh, and didn’t say anything more. 

Basil tugged on Snufkin’s sleeve. “You know how I wanna go to France? I also wanna go to Russia one day too. Have you ever been to Russia?”

“Oh,” Snufkin blinked. “Uhm, yes, for a short while. It’s a beautiful place.”

“Basil, honey, don’t you have a book on russian language?” Moomintroll asked his daughter. He sat beside Snorkmaiden and put a paw on her leg. 

Basil lit up. “I do! Snufkin, I’ll go get it!”

“Oh, okay.”

And then, Basil leapt from her chair and ran past the table, and up the stairs. Just like Snufkin thought, with her gone, the silence fell back into awkwardness. Pudding didn’t seem to notice and kept on drawing -- that, or he didn’t really care. Moomintroll had an unusual look on his face. Something told Snufkin that he had intended to keep Basil talking, not to make her run off.

“So!” Moomintroll suddenly said blithely, and Snorkmaiden eyed him wearily. “Did you pass through Moominvalley or did you come from the other way?”

“I passed through the valley,” Snufkin responded. “I visited Moominmama and Moominpapa first.”

“Oh,” Moomintroll seemed surprised at that. 

Then Pudding spoke up and said, “oh right, Farmor called this morning and told me to tell you that someone was coming to visit you. I forgot.”

Moomintroll looked at his son with slight annoyance and said, “I see. Well, remember what I said about taking a message when someone calls, and your mother and I aren’t home?”

“Mhmm. Sorry.” Though he didn’t sound very sorry at all.

Moomintroll exhaled. “Anyway! That doesn’t matter. What about Sniff, have you seen him yet?”

“No,” Snufkin replied. “Does he live here too?”

At that point, Basil came bouncing down the stairs with a big book in her arms. She said loudly, “Uncle Sniff lives out in the orchids!”

“Yes, It’s about an hour’s walk, and a ten minute drive,” Snorkmaiden scooted her chair out to make room for Basil to crawl up onto her lap. Basil, comfortable on her mother’s legs, put the book on the table and opened it up.

Moomintroll said to Snufkin, “Basil said you were at the bakery when they opened, right? Then you must’ve met his daughter, Nappi. She helps us out a lot.”

“His daughter!” Snufkin’s brow flew up. “Sniff had a child?”

“Yeah, a while ago,” Moomintroll reached over to Basil and tucked a strand of fur behind her ear. “How old is she now, twelve?”

“Thirteen,” Snorkmaiden was reading the book over Basil’s shoulder. 

“And who's the, uh…?

“Oh, who knows. He wouldn’t tell us,” Moomintroll said. “He just rocked up to the valley after one of his trips and said ‘surprise! i’m having a baby’.”

“I can imagine the shock,” Snufkin mumbled.

“Yes, well…” Moomintroll’s voice died out, and so did that particular conversation. 

This time, Snorkmaiden spoke up, not taking her eyes off the book. “What about My? Have you seen her yet?”

Snufkin paused. Then, “uhm, no, I’m afraid not.”

“Are you planning on seeing her at all?”

There was something clipped in Snorkmaiden’s voice that made Snufkin hesitant to answer. “Well… yes, eventually, I will go to see her.”

“We could invite her down,” Moomintroll said. He smiled encouragingly at Snorkmaiden, and then looked to Snufkin. “We could all get together for a day, do some catching up. I haven’t seen her in a while myself.” He gently brushed a knuckle to Basil’s cheek. “You want to see Aunty My?”

“I talked to her yesterday,” she replied. “She called the house phone.”

“What? What is it with you kids and not telling us when someone calls?”

“I told her about how my pet caterpillar died and she laughed.”

“Well, that’s not very nice.”

Basil pushed out her bottom lip and turned a page. “No, it wasn’t.”

Snufkin watched Moomintroll rest his cheek on his paw while he looked at his daughter, sitting on his wife’s lap, and suddenly, his chest felt tight and horrible.

He stood a little more suddenly than he would’ve liked. “Er, can I use your washroom quickly?”

Moomintroll blinked at him. “Sure, it’s upstairs. First door to the right, hard to miss.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, Snufkin left the table and went up the stairs.

The door had a little wooden plaque hanging on it with ‘bathroom’ crudely painted on (by a child, of course). It really was hard to miss. 

Inside, the washroom was small but pleasant, with white tiles and faux-frosted glass. There were potted plants scattered about, which Snufkin thought was a bit strange to have in a washroom. There was plastic toys in the bath, and a cup with four toothbrushes in. Snufkin could’ve guessed which ones belonged to who.

He turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face. Then, he looked back up at himself in mirror above the sink. There were bags under his eyes, and his fur was patchy around his jaw and chin. His hair was messier than he thought. He looked terrible. He felt terrible.

He thought to himself miserably, what are you _doing_?

He exited the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him quietly. He got the head of the stairs when he heard Basil ask her parents quietly, “is Snufkin gonna stay here tonight?”

Moomintroll’s voice started up, but Snorkmaiden quickly cut in, “absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like staying indoors, honey, that’s all,” Moomintroll said gently. “He’ll probably set up his tent somewhere in the forest. Or maybe the beach.”

Snorkmaiden scoffed. Snufkin wanted to cry, but didn’t.

Instead, he opened the bathroom door and shut it again, louder this time, and came down the stairs. 

“Snufkin,” Basil said when she saw him. “Where are you staying tonight?”

“Well, I’ll probably set up my tent on the beach.”

Basil nodded quite seriously and said, “I like the beach.”

“Me too,” Snufkin smiled. Then, “well, I should be going now anyway. Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you both again.” Then to Basil and Pudding, “and it was nice meeting the two of you.”

Moomintroll stood, and for a second, Snufkin thought he was going to hug him, but instead, he said, “sure thing, I’ll see you out.”

Snufkin felt deflated at that. Basil waved at him and said, “bye bye, Snufkin, see you later!”

Snufkin waved back. “Bye, Basil. Bye, Pudding.” Then, “bye, Snorkmaiden.”

Snorkmaiden simply hummed lowly. 

\------------

Snufkin had asked it was alright that he smoke before he left, and Moomintroll said sure.

And so, Snufkin lit his pipe in the garden, among the various rose bushes. As he did this, Moomintroll stood beside him, outside in the cold air.

“That’s not how that story goes.”

Snufkin looked at him. “What?”

“The bee sting story. The real story is that the baker’s honey attracted bees that stung him on the hands and stole his cake.”

Snufkin exhaled smoke. “My father told me that that was the twisted version of the story,” he said, “that the original had been simplified to make the thief baker look innocent, and the bees look like heartless villains.”

Moomintroll laughed quietly at that. “Well, that’s a little dramatic. They’re just bees.”

“He told it better than I do.”

“You tell lovely stories. That's one of the things I remember about you so well."

Snufkin looked away from him. 

“Where were you? All this time, I mean. Where did you go?”

Snufkin shrugged. “Anywhere and everywhere, I suppose.”

There is a short silence that followed that, before Moomintroll laughed. It was a dry, cold laugh with no joy behind it, and Snufkin hated hearing.

“Of course,” Moomintroll says simply, and perhaps even a little sadly. “I knew you’d say something like that. Forget I asked.”

A sea breeze brushes them for a few short moments.

“I _am_ happy you’re back,” he then told Snufkin. “Relieved that you’re still okay, too. But I’m just so confused, why now? If you could’ve come found us anytime you wanted, then why didn’t you?”

Snufkin shrugged again and said nothing. Moomintroll’s tail flicked.

“Right. Okay.” His voice was clipped and sharp, and Snufkin cringed. It was his ‘ _fine, be that way_ ’ voice that Snufkin was very familiar with, even twenty years later. Then, Moomintroll closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Fuck. I just got mad there for a bit.” He laughed. “Been a while since you’ve done that to me. That's one of the things I _never_ remember, what a pain in the ass you can be."

“Language,” Snufkin responded quietly, but felt his cheeks heat up in delight at the good humour in Moomintroll’s voice.

“We’re gonna invite Little My and Sniff down for lunch tomorrow. Will you still be here?”

Snufkin nodded.

“Okay. Good. I’m pleased to hear it.” Then, “well, good night. Sleep well.”

Moomintroll left Snufkin standing among the rose bushes, leaving him to think about how terribly tense that whole visit had been.


	6. Chapter 6

When they were only very young, Snufkin had accepted an invitation to sleep in Moomintroll’s room. Moomintroll was eleven, and Snufkin was twelve, turning thirteen very soon (so he assumed, because his birthday changed whenever he felt like changing it). It was exciting; they had only ever really had a sleepover with the others with them, and now, they could have fun by themselves.    
  
Not that Snufkin would ever have admitted it, but if he absolutely had to sleep in a house, he would’ve preferred to sleep in a house with Moomin, and Moomin alone.   
  
The room was lit by a dull lantern. They were sitting on the floor, among blankets and bedding that was thrown down, sharing stories with one another. Rather, Snufkin was sharing stories, and Moomintroll was listening and asking questions.    
  
“And so, they drew out their knives carved from quartz, and they shone in the moonlight. My back was against the wall, I had nowhere to go.”   
  
Moomintroll hugged a pillow tight to his chest. “And what did you do?”   
  
Snufkin grinned. “I held up the little satchel and said good loud, is this what you’re looking for? Then, I threw it over the brick wall, and slid right under their legs.”   
  
Moomintroll giggled. “And they didn’t catch you?”   
  
“No! They were too busy going after the satchel I took. I didn’t even know what was in it, but I suppose it was very, very important. I ran out the town gates and never looked back.”   
  
“And they never found you.”   
  
“Nope. And I never returned there again.”   
  
“And what about that womble boy? Did you ever see him again?”   
  
Snufkin twirled a loose tuft of hair beside his pink cheek. “Uhm... well, yes, I did see him again. I ran into him a few regions over, he was visiting family there.”   
  
“And?”   
  
“And...” Snufkin lowered his head. Then, as if admitting a terrible secret, he mumbled, “and he greeted me with a kiss on the paw, and I got so embarrassed, I ran out of that town too.”   
  
Moomintroll gasped. “Snufkin!”   
  
Snufkin covered his face with his paws. “Oh, Moomin, I was so humiliated. He was such a nice womble, and I knew he was only being polite, but goodness... a kiss is so intimate, isn’t it?”   
  
“No, I don’t think so,” Moomintroll rested his chin on his knees, the pillow now forgotten. “Kissing is pretty common with moomins, I think. I used to kiss people to greet them all the time. But also, I think the womble might’ve fancied you a little bit.”   
  
Snufkin’s pink cheeks then grew red. “Fancied me! I hardly think so. I don’t think fifteen year olds like thirteen year olds like that.”   
  
“You’re not thirteen, you’re twelve.”   
  
“Then that just makes it gross.”   
  
“Or maybe he  _ was  _ being polite. Who knows, I’ve never met a womble before. Kissing seems to be different for everyone.”   
  
“Well, yes... I’ve never met another Mumrik before, but I know for Mymbles, kissing is for family and lovers only. Maybe it’s like that for all flat-faced trolls.”   
  
“Maybe. I remember I tried kissing you once and you threw an absolute blue fit.”   
  
“Well, I didn’t know moomins just kiss each other for the sake of kissing. At least I didn’t make a gagging noise like Little My did when you kissed her.”   
  
Moomintroll smiled, amused. “Culture shock, I guess.”   
  
“Yeah, something like that.”   
  
The room was then quiet. The lantern flickered.    
  
Then, Snufkin said lowly, “but, if I was to kiss someone properly, I think I wouldn’t mind if it were you.”   
  
Moomintroll looked at him. “Really?”   
  
“Yeah. I heard ‘first kisses’ are quite important sometimes. Some trolls think you should save your first kiss for someone who’s very important to you.”   
  
“Am I important to you?”   
  
Snufkin frowned. “Well... you’re my best friend.”   
  
It was the first time he had said that. Moomintroll felt warm.   
  
He bounded up on his knees and said, “then let’s kiss right now!”   
  
Snufkin blinked in surprise. “Right now?”   
  
“Yes!” He then lowered again, and sat in front of Snufkin, a little closer. “I mean... if you weren’t joking, of course. Because if you were, then forget about it, but if you weren’t...”    
  
Snufkin stared at Moomintroll, brow raised at his enthusiasm. In the warm glow of the lantern, his blue eyes looked green.   
  
“... ok.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah. But you can’t tell anyone, ok? This’ll be our secret.”   
  
“Of course! And we’ll go right back to being best friends afterwards.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Then, they stared at each other cautiously, as if daring the other to go first. Moomintroll moved before Snufkin did, leaning forward slowly and nuzzling his nose to Snufkin’s. It only lasted for a few moments before he pulled back again. Snufkin reached up and touched his own nose, and then frowned.    
  
“Well,” he mumbled, “it's the same as i remember. Not very intimate.”   
  
Moomintroll ears were bright red, and he huffed. “That’s the only way I know how to kiss.”   
  
“Then let’s kiss the mumrik way. Come on, look up, let me at your mouth.”   
  
“My mouth?” Moomintroll’s brow flew up. “What are you going to do to my mouth?”   
  
Snufkin pointed to his own. “I’m going to touch it with mine.”   
  
“That’s how mumrikar kiss? By  _ touching mouths _ ?”   
  
“Mumrikar, and mymbles, and muddlers too.”

“But isn’t that… I don’t know, unhygienic or something?”

“No. It’s not as weird as you think it is.” Snufkin folded his arms defensively. Then, “but if it freaks you out so much, then we won’t do it.”   
  
“But it was your idea.”   
  
“And you’re clearly disgusted by it, so we won’t. I’m going to sleep.”   
  
“Snufkin!” Moomintroll cried, almost chastising him. “Don’t be like that, I didn’t mean — hey! Don’t go to sleep, get up.”   
  
Snufkin very stubbornly lay on his side among the blankets, back to Moomintroll. He ignored his scoldings with a frown on his face.    
  
“Snufkin, I’m sorry, it’s not weird. It’s just different, that’s all. I’m sorry,” Moomintroll shook Snufkin’s shoulder.    
  
Snufkin huffed and didn’t respond. After a few seconds of silence, Moomintroll huffed too.    
  
“Fine,” he grumbled coldly, “be that way. I’m going to sleep too.”   
  
And he did. And they went to sleep upset at each other over such a silly thing.

Moomintroll, now thirty six years old, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It was an unusually specific. It was such a ridiculous thing to fight over, but it seemed pretty big at the time. He remembered that Snufkin was gone by the next morning, and he didn’t come back for a few days. He didn’t apologise for causing such a fuss, and Moomintroll didn’t apologise for upsetting him.

They simply slipped back into their friendship as if nothing had happened. Even back then as an eleven year old, Moomintroll had wondered how long they could function like that.

When Moomintroll came back into the house, Snorkmaiden was standing in the kitchen with a strange look on her face. 

She looked to Moomintroll when she heard him. “Are you alright?”

Moomintroll blinked and replied a little too blithely, “I’m totally fine, just a little surprised… and you?”

“I don’t know,” Snorkmaiden replied honestly. “I guess I’m surprised too. Or rather, er…” she frowned slightly. “Shocked, I think. I’m shocked.”

“Well… at least we’re shocked together.”

Snorkmaiden simply hummed. She began taking the cups out of the sink and stacking them to be washed. Moomintroll came forward and took her paw.

“You’re not crazy about him being here, I can tell that much.”

“Well, why on earth would I be --“ she stopped herself from getting too angry, and then took a deep breath. “I just… did he tell you why he vanished for so long?”

“No.”

“Did he tell you where he was?”

“No.”

“Did he even  _ apologise _ ?”

“... well, no --”

“So do you see why I’m not very happy?” Snorkmaiden took her paw away from him. “I mean, I -- we were so worried about him for so long, weren’t we? We put our lives on hold for him, and he was just…” she shook her head. “... he was fine the whole time. He could’ve come back whenever he wanted and he just  _ didn’t _ .”

Moomintroll sighed. “I suppose, but you know how private he can be; that may not even be the real story.”

“Are you not the  _ slightest  _ bit upset?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly jump up and down when I saw him, but…”

“But what?”

Moomin looked as if he were restraining himself greatly. “... I don’t know, Snorkmaiden. He was our friend --”

“Yes. Exactly. He  _ was  _ our friend, and he just threw it all out the window that winter he decided he couldn’t be bothered with us anymore. Now he’s back and wants to pretend like it never happened. Well, it’s not going to go down like that. He can’t just drop us and pick us up whenever he wants, we’re not some wind up toy for his amusement.”

She turned away from him after her minor outburst, and Moomintroll knew it was to hide the blue flickering in her cheeks. Moomintroll sighed again. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Quietly, he said, “you know that’s not what it is.”

Snorkmaiden sniffed. “Well, that’s what it feels like.”

He kissed her neck and nuzzled her shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Today is today and tomorrow is something different. So let’s just forget about it now and deal with it tomorrow.”

“You always say that.”

“And we always end up fine, don’t we?” Moomintroll grinned into her fur. “What perfume did you use this morning? It smells different.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. Is it a berry one? It’s lovely.”

“Oh, get off me. Go on, get away,” she swatted at him playfully, and Moomintroll laughed, lifting his hands from her hips. “You’re horrid.”

“Nope, just a perfume enthusiast. And speaking of good smells, I’m going to go have a bath.”

Snorkmaiden folded her arms, and Moomintroll kissed her. 

“You’re welcome to join me.”

“Why, thank you,” Snorkmaiden deadpanned, then smiled. “We don’t both fit in that tub and you know it. Hurry up and I’ll meet you in bed instead. The kids should be asleep by then. If you rub my back, I’ll rub something of your’s.”

Moomintroll raised his brow.

She swatted his chest. “Well, go on! Get to it, mister.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

_________________________________________________________________________

The next morning around eight am, the kitchen was busy. Basil had to stand on a step stool to properly reach the bench. She had one arm wrapped around the bowl, the other working very hard to stir the batter inside. She had bits of flour and butter stuck in her fur that Snorkmaiden kept trying to wipe away.

Moomintroll was in the living room standing by the phone, talking with Little My.

“Yeah, I know, it’s -- no, My, he seems fine. Physically, I mean.” He glanced up at the staircase to see Pudding trudging down, no glasses and rubbing his eyes. Moomintroll tapped a finger to his snout to signify him to be quiet. “... No, I know. Well, fucking hell, you don’t think I was surprised to see him? I thought I was going to faint on the spot. Yeah, he’s -- yeah. Yeah. Okay, well… yeah. Uh-huh… No, that’s fine, we don’t want it to be a big thing anyway. We only invited you and Sniff… well yeah, of course, that’s the last thing I wanna do, now that he’s finally --”

There was a long silence in the room as Moomintroll listened to what Little My had to say.

He sighed and scratched his neck. “... Well, I guess you can ask him yourself when you get here. Yeah… Okay, that’s fine. Yeah. Alright, love you too. See you later today.”

He put the phone back on its receiver, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. In the kitchen, he could hear the commotion of cooking and conversation. He had to silently remind himself that everything was still okay. 

He came into the kitchen and smiled. “How are the cupcakes coming along?”

Basil was spooning the batter into cupcake patties with Snorkmaiden’s help. “Great. And only minimal mess.”

“Oh good,” he pulled out a mug from from an upper cupboard. “Has anyone put the kettle on?”

“Not yet.”

Moomintroll shook the tin kettle, and when he heard swishing of water, he put it on the stove and lit it. As he did this, Basil (walking very slowly and carefully) carried the cupcake tin to the oven, opened the door, and slid them inside. Once they were in, she closed the door again and stood there with a very proud expression. Moomintroll patted her head fondly.

“Good job, love,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll taste great. Do you want some tea?”

“Yes please!”

“Pudding?”

“No.”

Moomintroll didn’t bother trying to hammer manners into his son. Behind him, Snorkmaiden loaded the dishes in the sink, making clanging noises. Moomintroll looked at her. “Want some  _ see-oh-eff-eff-ee-ee _ ?”

“Please,” responded Snorkmaiden. She sounded tired. “I’m a little up to here for baking.”

“So none of mama’s famous pancakes this morning?”

“Oh, make them yourself. I need to sit,” and with that, she exited the walk-in and to sit at the table. 

Then, Basil said to him, “I don’t like your pancakes.”

Moomintroll laughed. “Porridge it is, then.”

Around ten am, when the cupcakes were cooling on the kitchen bench, Snorkmaiden was out watering the flowers planted out the front of their house when she heard scraping against the dirt path.

She looked to the side and saw that familiar deep brown paint of a run-down car. She smiled and waved.

“Good morning!”

Sniff got out of the driver’s side with a basket tucked under his arm, Nappi close behind him from the passenger side. 

“You weren’t supposed to be here until midday.”

“I know, I know,” Sniff waved his paw as he approached, “but I figured I’d get here sooner to hear this supposed ‘big news’ Moomin has.”

Snorkmaiden kissed his cheek as a greeting. “He didn’t tell you? He said he called you.” Then to Nappi, “hi sweetie, how are you?”

Without missing a beat, Nappi replied, “good, dad let me drive the pick.”

“You  _ what _ ?” Snorkmaiden gaped at Sniff, accusatory. Nappi ran inside rather worry free as Snorkmaiden scolded Sniff with, “jesus christ, how is that safe?”

Sniff didn’t seem to take it anymore seriously than his daughter. He simply laughed and handed the basket to Snorkmaiden. “Not for very long, just a few minutes. We picked these this morning.”

The basket was full of peaches. Snorkmaiden huffed. “Your bribery with fruit trick continues to succeed, as usual.” Then, her face softened. “Come on in, I’m sure I can find something to tide you over before lunch.”

“Snorkmaiden, I don’t  _ need  _ to eat twenty four seven, you know.” He followed her inside. “But a biscuit would be nice, actually.”

“You’ll get what you’re given.”

They went inside and found Moomintroll dusting down the vases and record player. He looked up and grinned. “Hey, you. If you’re here early because you think that’ll make us serve lunch early --”

“What sort of glutton do the two of you take me for?” Sniff huffed. “Give me back my peaches.”

Snorkmaiden held them high above her head. “No take backs! They’re our’s now.”

“I came because I was getting impatient about this huge surprise,” he then said. Then, “oh god, mama and papa are okay, right?”

Moomintroll almost seemed amused by that. “They’re fine, it’s nothing to do with them. But, er…” He coughed into his paw and rested the feather duster on the bookshelf. “Well, I suppose you’d better sit down for it.”

After Snorkmaiden found those leftover biscuits -- shortbreads -- they all sat around the table together. They could hear Basil and Nappi playing and talking upstairs.

“Alright, well.” Moomintroll folded his paws and looked to Snorkmaiden. “I suppose no point in stalling.” Then he turned to Sniff and said, “Snufkin’s come back.”

Sniff froze, biscuit halfway up to his mouth. He stared at Moomintroll for a few beats, before a scoffing laugh jolted through him, and he popped the biscuit in his mouth.

“Okay.”

“It’s true,” Snorkmaiden said quietly. “He rocked up on our doorstep last night out of the blue.”

Sniff frowned. “But he -- hold on a second.” He swallowed. “Let me get it right.  _ Our _ Snufkin? Snusmumrik?”

“We don’t know many other Snufkins.”

Now, Sniff just seemed utterly gobsmacked. He looked between them for a few seconds. “I -- he just --?” He vaguely gestured with his paws. “Just  _ showed up _ ?”

Snorkmaiden nodded.

“But… is he okay? What happened to him?”

“Well, he --”   


“Absolutely nothing,” Snorkmaiden interrupted Moomintroll rather sharply. “He just decided he was ready to come back.”

“That’s not true,” Moomintroll mumbled, ears a little pink. “He just didn’t tell us.”

Sniff wrung his paws. He never grew out of that nervous habit. “So… is he coming this afternoon?”

“He should be. We invited him.”

And Snorkmaiden added under her breath, “not that that would mean anything to him.”

“It’s been so long,” Sniff said quietly, “I don’t think I can remember what he looks like.”

“He’s the same. The same but a little different.”

Then, the table fell silent. Snorkmaiden and Sniff both stared down at the table; Sniff looked contemplative, Snorkmaiden looked annoyed. Moomintroll cleared his throat.

“Well, er… Basil’s cupcakes should be ready to decorate now, so --”

Snorkmaiden stood up. “Then I guess we should start preparing lunch.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Little My turned up at ten to eleven and let herself into the house, which was unlocked (and even if it wasn’t, she had her own key anyway). She walked through the hall, passed the stairs and living room, and stuck her head into the walk-in kitchen.

Basil and Pudding were decorating cupcakes, and Snorkmaiden, Moomintroll and Sniff were cutting up fruits and making sandwiches.

“Fifteen minutes until midday and the food isn’t even ready. Typical.”

Moomintroll didn’t even look up when he said, “shut up, you miserable old bag.”

“Hi Aunty My,” said both Basil and Nappi.

“Hello little worms, how are we today?” My asked as she took off her coat and swung it over her arm.

“I’m  _ not  _ a worm,” Basil said firmly, and Little My grinned.

“Oh, sorry. You’re a grub.”

“No.”

“A maggot.”

“No!”

“My, stop tormenting my daughter,” Snorkmaiden said, giving her a quick hug. “And go hang your coat up on the stand for goodness sake, it drives me mental watching you walk around with it like that.”

“Drives you mental? Then it shall stay right here. Hey, fatty," My then shared a hug with Sniff, who flicked her with his tail.

"Hi, dwarf woman. How was the ride down?"

"Absolutely hell, as usual. Anything I can help with?"

“Nope, we’re almost set anyway. Oh, actually,” Moomintroll looked to her, “we’re gonna eat outside, so if you could grab the picnic tarp, that’d be fantastic.”

“Where is it, the linen cupboard?”

“It should be. Do you need a step ladder?”

“Go to buggery,” and with that, Little My went off to the linen cupboard. Moomintroll shrugged good-naturedly.

“I was asking her honestly.”

When they were ready, Little My lay out the large tarp on the grass behind the house. Sniff carried out the sandwiches, Snorkmaiden carried out the fruit, Basil and Nappi carried out the cupcakes, and Moomintroll went upstairs to boss Pudding out of his room to join them. They lay out the food, the plates and cups, and sat amongst each other. The day wasn’t too warm, wasn’t too cold, and there were butterflies among the snapdragons in Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden’s garden.

They ate and spoke among each other -- they talked about Little My’s journey down on the train, they talked about the bakery, they talked about Sniff thinking about sending Nappi to school (on her own request).

When most of the food had been eaten, Basil and Nappi played a strange mix of tag and wrestling around the garden. Pudding stayed on the tarp and quietly watched them.

“So,” Sniff said, leaning back on his paws. “When is you-know-who showing up?”

Moomintroll didn’t dare look at Snorkmaiden when he said, “well, he was supposed to be here by now, but I guess he got held up a bit.”

Little My frowned and bit down on a peach. “Well, we’ve waited twenty years, a few extra hours are nothing, right?” The way she said it made Moomintroll think that those few extra hours were indeed something.

Sniff furrowed his brow too. “You don’t think he would’ve left before seeing us, would he?”

“Of course not --”

“It’s possible.”

Moomintroll gave Snorkmaiden a weary look. “But not likely.”

Little My scoffed, “not likely, is it?”

“No,” Moomintroll felt his hackles begin to puff. “I’m sure he just --”

“Maybe he saw how boring we became and decided we aren’t worth his time after all.” Snorkmaiden picked at her claw with her thumb.

“That’s not --”

“Or he could be scared to face us. Or embarrassed,” Sniff remarked.

“I don’t think --”

“Yeah, hiding like a coward,” Little My added venomously, “what he does best, of course.”

“That’s _enough_ of that!” Moomintroll boomed, and they all looked at him, surprised. “You’re all being quite nasty towards someone who is supposed be our friend.” He shot a look at Little My. “And our family.”

“Mymbles don’t care much for all that,” she responded blankly. “And clearly, neither does Snufkin.”

There was a silence. When Little My was annoyed, she yelled. When she was terribly upset, she spoke calmly and coherently. Moomintroll nursed the end of his lemonade in his paw.

Then, “we should start packing up,” and they did.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief and joking mentions of trans pregnancy in dis chapter again

After the dishes had been washed and put away, and the leftovers had been wrapped up and put in the fridge, they all sat at the dining table with cups of coffee. The children had retreated into their rooms, and Basil and Nappi could be faintly heard upstairs.

It was four pm. Snufkin still wasn’t there. The topic clearly put them all on a bit edge, so they pushed the conversation away from there. 

When Sniff asked My how she was finding her new house, Moomintroll’s brow raised. “You moved out of the cottage? When?”

“Months ago,” My responded, “moved a little closer inland, the cold air was making me ache at night.” Then, “I kind of just assumed because I told Sniff, he would’ve told you.”

“Wow,” was all Sniff had to say to that, and Moomintroll laughed.

“You are a bit of a blabber mouth. So how when do we get to visit?”   


“Never. Stay away from my house.”

“Then get out of mine.

“No. Your wife makes good biscuits.”

Snorkmaiden raised an eyebrow. “ _ His wife _ has a name, and you shall use it.”

Little My raised her cup. “I’m complimenting you, dear, take it or leave it.”

“You know, I wonder why Little My gets to say shit like that and we don't,” Sniff remarked, and Snorkmaiden snorted a laugh behind her cup.

Moomintroll laughed again too. “They have soft spots for each other.”

Both Snorkmaiden and Little My made disgusted coughing sounds. 

Then, a knock at the door was heard, and the conversation stopped. They all shared looks. Moomintroll smiled as encouragingly as he could, but even he didn’t feel right behind it. He stood up and made his way to the door.

When he opened it, he found Snufkin standing in front of him with a guilty look in his eyes. His hair had been pulled back in a short and messy ponytail, but his hat still hid the majority of his face with shadows.

“Hi,” he said cautiously, “I, er… I know you said lunch time, but --”

“It’s fine,” Moomintroll said a little too quickly. “They’re still here.”

“Oh.”

They stood there for a few moments longer, and Snufkin made no indication that he even wanted to come in anymore. 

“... it’ll be fine,” said Moomintroll quietly. “Just come in and get the niceties out of the way, and then it’ll all be fine.”

Snufkin almost frowned at ‘get the niceties out of the way’, because it felt like he hadn’t even done that with Moomintroll yet. 

Although hesitant, he still followed Moomintroll into the house and down the hallway. The large troll stopped in the walkway, and was blocking Snufkin’s view of the living room. The only audible thing in the house was the children talking upstairs. 

Then, Moomintroll said in a strange voice, “he’s here,” and he stepped aside. Snufkin would’ve laughed at the reveal had he not been so nervous.

Sniff and Little My stared at Snufkin, and Snufkin stared back. 

Nobody said anything, despite everyone looking as if they would really like to. 

The silence was almost unbearable, so Moomintroll decided to break it: “Well, er… anyway, Snufkin, take a seat, we were just talking about Little My’s new house.” He held out his arm and hovered it just above Snufkin’s lower back. Despite no contact being made, Snufkin still felt pins and needles there. Moomintroll gently ushered Snufkin to the table, where he slowly and awkwardly sat at the end.

Snufkin reminded himself to breathe.

Then, Sniff said quietly, “are we just going to talk on like normal? I mean,” he looked back to Snufkin. “Isn’t this anticlimactic? We haven’t seen you in two decades.”

Snufkin blinked.

“Why make it a big deal? It’ll only scare him away,” Little My replied coolly, and Snufkin, with burning cheeks, stared down at the table.

With a low voice, he mumbled, “it's… nice to see you both again.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Sniff answered him after a short silence, and Little My did not. “You look so different.”

“Do I?”

Snorkmaiden calmly sipped her tea. “He looks good. Doesn’t he, dear?”

Moomintroll blinked in surprise. “I -- yeah, sure.” Then, “so, er, Little My, this new house of your’s, it’s further from the shoreline you said?”   


The conversation trudged on slowly and surely, and as they all quietly discussed, Snufkin said little to nothing. Every so often, Moomintroll would turn to him and say or ask something to keep him as included in the conversation as he could, and Snufkin would either nod or hum lowly.

Moomintroll seemed to be purposely trying to steer them away from having a large reaction, even if it made everyone a bit uncomfortable. Little My picked at the table cloth absent mindlessly while she talked, and Sniff kept glancing to Snufkin strangely, like he still wasn’t totally convinced he was there. 

And Snufkin wanted to curl up in a tight ball and sink into the carpet, disappearing from the situation all together. 

He knew, very deep inside of himself, that there wasn’t going to be hugs and crying or anything like that. He knew it wouldn’t be like that, so he knew not to expect it. Snorkmaiden had almost been that for him, but she quickly clammed up as soon as they started talking, and that’s how everyone else reacted, too. 

Snufkin breathed. But weren’t they the tiniest bit happy to see him? Not even a little bit? Was their anger at him really so strong that it overpowered their relief to see him?

Were they even relieved at all?

The clanking of dishes brought Snufkin back into his own mind. Everyone was standing now, and Moomintroll was gathering the mugs and saucers into a stack. Snufkin blinked, and stood awkwardly too.

He only watched on as they all shared hugs with each other.

“Thanks for coming down, I know the trip is a pain,” Snorkmaiden said as she kissed Little My’s cheek.

“I’d go anywhere for a good meal. Thanks for having me,” she replied. 

They all shared goodbyes. Sniff stood at the foot of the stairs and called for Nappi to come down, but when she did, she had Basil trailing beside her. Basil asked Sniff if Nappi could sleep over, and Sniff said yes -- as long as Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden knew. They said it was alright too. "You know you're always welcome here, honey," Snorkmaiden had said.

Snufkin offered to help with the dishes after everyone left. Moomintroll accepted, and Snorkmaiden went upstairs.

The sunset left the kitchen in an orange hue. As Snufkin washed with his coat sleeves rolled up, Moomintroll dried and put away.

Moomintroll broke the silence with, “you seemed a bit uncomfortable.”

“So did you,” Snufkin replied, “and so did everyone else.”

He laughed quietly and breathily. “I think they’re just a bit in shock. And maybe a bit hurt.”

Snufkin stared at the bubbly water. Then, “should I not have come back?”

What a subject to breach. Moomintroll looked at him in surprise, but didn’t say anything.

“I just feel like I’ve upset everyone just by being here.”

“You upset them by  _ not  _ being here,” Moomintroll said.

“But I’m here now.”

“Sure, now. But what about the rest of the time?”

Snufkin placed a washed mug on the dish rack a little too hard. Moomintroll picked it up and dried it with his tea towel. 

“Nobody is saying you aren’t wanted here. It doesn’t matter what happens between us, I will always welcome you into my home,” Moomintroll told him. “And if you ask me a straight question, I will give you a straight answer. All I ask is that you return the courtesy.”

“Return the courtesy?” Snufkin parroted. “Our friendship is a transaction, is that it?”

”That isn’t what I meant.”

“So I hurt people by being away, and I hurt them by coming back. Where exactly is the middle point? Am I just the problem?”

“Don't think that way. You know that the way you act is hurtful sometimes.”

“The way I  _ act _ ? What have I done? I haven’t been here to do anything hurtful. I get being upset that I didn’t keep in touch, but is it really so bad that you all hate me now?”

“Snufkin,” Moomintroll said firmly, but kindly -- it was a similar tone Moominmama would use with him whenever he got too worked up as a teenager. “Don’t raise your voice in my house. I won’t have a conversation with you if you’ll just shout at me.”

Snufkin’s jaw tightened. He rested his elbows on the sink and stared out the window. He had never heard Moomintroll speak like that when they were children.

“I’m not saying any of those things. I don’t hate you. None of us do. We were just worried about you, and you --”

“It’s not my fault if you worry for me. That’s not my obligation to fix.”

“If you’re going to interrupt me, then we won’t talk, and you can just leave.”   


“Perhaps I will.”

Petulantly, Snufkin lifted his paws from the sink and dried them hastily on his coat. Moomintroll resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Snufkin,” he said again.

“If you don’t want me here, then I don’t have to be here,” Snufkin said, and cursed himself for his voice not coming out as strong as he’d like it. “I didn’t have to come back.”

“For god’s sake, will you stop acting like a child,” Moomintroll said, not bitterly or harshly, but still angrily. “Will you just -- Snufkin!”   


He then reached out and grabbed Snufkin’s wrist, and Snufkin’s skin burnt. He kept his eyes down and away from Moomintroll.

Moomintroll took a deep breath, in and out. “I do want you to be here. Okay? Look at me.”

Snufkin looked at him. Moomintroll had a small scar on his ear.

“I want you to be here,” he repeated. “I do. I’m so happy you came back. But if  _ you  _ want to be here, then you have things you need to own up to.”

Snufkin wanted to look away, but didn’t.

“So how about we talk about it like adults. Can we do that, please?”

“... it’s getting late.”

Moomintroll’s ear tilted, and he dropped Snufkin’s wrist. “We’ll have to talk about it eventually.”

“Yes, eventually!” Snufkin’s voice cracked, as did his composure. “But not right now. Goodnight.”

“Snufkin,  _ please _ don’t be like this --”

But Snufkin was already out of the walk-in and making his way to the door, chin tucked into his scarf, and eyes burning; upset over such a silly thing. 

Basil was halfway down the stairs when she saw Snufkin just disappear out the door. “Papa?”

“Yes, baby?”

She bounced down the stairs and came into the walk-in, frowning. “Why is Snufkin leaving?”

“Oh…” he patted her mane softly. “I think he just needed to be alone for a bit. He’ll be alright."

"Is he coming back."

"... maybe. I hope so. Er, where’s Nappi?”

“In the bath.”

“You don’t bath together anymore?”

“No, Nappi says she’s too old now.”

“Ah. I suppose she would be.”

Moomintroll cleared his throat and folded up the tea towel.

“Papa?”

“Mm?”

“What’s for dinner?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Moomintroll came out of the bathroom to find Snorkmaiden already in bed. He turned off the lamp, got under the covers and put his arm around her middle, placing his chin atop her head.

He mumbled into her mane that he loved her, but she was asleep and didn’t respond.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snufkin had set up his tent on the beach, and when he woke up, the air was cool and crisp. His shoulders were stiff and popped when he stretched his hands above his head. Sticking his head out the window, he saw that the sun was beginning to rise above the ocean line, and the sky was a pale yellow. He inwardly groaned. His habit of waking up early hadn’t waned in the slightest in his old age, and he halfway wished it had.

He crawled out of his tent and stood in the sand, twisting his hips and shoulders, trying to shake away what sleep remained.

It took him a couple of moments to remember where exactly he was, and when he did, he took in a deep breath. He tasted salt.

He took out the old lacky from his hair and let his hair sit loose above his shoulders, and went to the shore’s edge to splash water on his face and head. That woke him up quick enough, and after smoothing his hair out of his face, he stretched again, still feeling stiff. He had been feeling stiff in his hips and shoulders in the mornings for a while now, taking longer and longer to loosen up. Of course, he wasn’t thirteen years old anymore, he was a breath away from forty. 

He went back to his tent and dressed himself. Not that Snufkin was by any means a large or even tall man, but as he got older, he of course had to replace his clothing (especially when his shoulders got a little broader and his chest a little thicker, and simply sewing a strip of fabric to the bottom of his dress wasn’t doing the job anymore). His scarf was cream coloured and very soft, stolen from a very fancy looking fashion store that Snufkin accidently found himself in when he was twenty four. His coat was a deep, faded blue and thick-fabricked and dropped down to past his knees, given to him by an elderly fillyjonk woman who no longer had any use for it. 

His hat was the same. It had always been almost comically big for him as a child, and now he just seemed to fit into it a little better. 

Appearance wise, he supposed he did seem different, but inside, he was the same. He still cried after arguments. His eyes were burning from the night before. Not even an argument, just Moomintroll being a mature adult and Snufkin not sure how to deal with that side of him, because he hadn’t ever really seen it before. He was used to fifteen year old Moomintroll, who would stomp his feet and roll his eyes and groan and scoff and resort to name-calling; he was used to the hormonal teen who would get teary-eyed every time he got angry, and then get angry because he was getting teary-eyed.

_ ‘I want you to be here, but if you want to be here, there are some things you need to own up to. So can we please talk about it like adults?’ _ That’s what he had said, in that strange familiar-yet-not-familiar, too deep voice. Snufkin rubbed his eyes. Since when did he want to discuss things like adults? Since when did he stop reacting to shouting by shouting himself

Since he started growing up, Snufkin supposed, and he wasn’t there to see it.

_ ‘For god’s sake, will you stop acting like a child?’ _

Snufkin used to be the one to say that to Moomintroll, and now, embarrassingly, he was the one having it said to him instead. 

He ran a paw through his wet hair. It had grown long enough to fall in his face, and he made a decision to cut it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late morning when Sniff came down to pick up Nappi. She and Basil were seated on the carpet, watching some strange puppet show on the brown box television. They were only allowed to watch television on sundays, and only for a couple of hours, because it used up too much electricity (or so Moomintroll had told them). Nappi left with him after Sniff had a quick conversation with Moomintroll, and catching Snorkmaiden on her way out.

As they left, Sniff held out his arm and Nappi pressed into his side.

“Have fun?”

“Yeah, me and Basil wrestled and I bruised her tail.”

“... Well, at least you aren’t doing drugs.”

“Dad, Basil’s only six.”

“So? I was six when I started drinking.”

“Oh, you were not.”

Nappi climbed into the passenger seat of the car, and Sniff revved it up.

“Was so too. Your uncle and I used to steal from your farfar’s cellar all the time. I've told you that midsummer story a million times.”

"Yeah, I know, I'm usually there when you tell me," Nappi sniffed. “It kind of explains a lot that you used to get drunk as a little kid.”

“Well!” Sniff cried. “I don’t like what you’re implying, young lady.”

Nappi leaned her head against the window, smiling.

“Stop smirking,” Sniff reached over and poked her in the side, and she squealed and twisted away from him. “Whatever problems I have, you have too. You’re my own flesh and blood, you know.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I carried you for ten long months.”

“Ugh, don’t.”

“You’re the fruit of my loins.”

“ _ Ew _ , stop it!” She covered her ears with her paws. “You’re  _ so  _ gross.”

“ _ You’re _ gross.”

“No,  _ you’re  _ gross.”

This back and forth continued until they were halfway up the hills, and into the plains. She stared out the window over the yellow grass. 

Then, she said, “hey, dad?”

“Mm-hm.”

“So if that guy was a friend of uncle Moomin's, and you two grew up together, was he also your friend too?”

“That guy...” Sniff repeated, frowning. Then, he made a soft ‘oh’ sound, and said, “yeah. Yeah, he was. A long time ago, though.”

Nappi was a precocious young girl. She didn’t know many other thirteen year olds, but she always felt she was quite a bit mature than others her own age. She knew how to read an atmosphere, and she knew when a topic should be dropped. So, when she felt her father’s discomfort, she dropped the topic and didn’t bring it up again.

“... Basil taught me some danish.”   


“Yeah? Cool, let’s hear some.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for teens talking abt sex stuff. its all very vague and nothing explicit is said, but some of yall are adults nd might find it uncomfortable to read about kids talking about that. so heads up

Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll started officially dating when they were fifteen. They had been one of those together-but-not-really couples for a very long time, until one day, they just made it official. The story was a private one; all anyone knew was that Moomintroll was now quite outwardly referring to Snorkmaiden as his girlfriend, and she to him as her boyfriend. 

Snufkin was not bothered by this in the slightest. That’s what he told himself very firmly. They were both his friends, and he wasn’t going to ruin their relationship by being petty and bitter. He was happy for them. It’s not as if he ever  _ really  _ wanted to pursue his feelings for Moomintroll -- whatever those feelings were. He was fine meeting people and having fleeting relations on his travels. He didn’t need a steady and permanent romance. He wasn’t suited to one. 

And besides, he thought to himself one afternoon when he was alone, it’s not as if Moomintroll’s dating some random girl who treats him bad; its  _ Snorkmaiden _ , for goodness sake. He knew her, he trusted her, and even if he didn’t, it was still none of his business.

Clearly, Snorkmaiden trusted him, too. One late morning, while the others went down to the beach to swim, she opted to stay with Snufkin (with his compliance, of course). The two of them went down into the forest together to find a good place to fish. Snorkmaiden wanted to start tail-fishing again; it had been a while since she had done that.

Snorkmaiden seemed anxious about something, but Snufkin didn’t pry. She was a very open person. If something was bothering her, she would tell him on her own time.

And tell him, she did. She suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest path and said rather pitifully, “ohh, Snufkin, if I don’t tell someone about this, I think I might die.”

Snufkin blinked, alarmed. “What? What is it?”

“I can’t possibly tell My, she’d run straight to Moomin, and Sniff wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about. I think my brother would have a blue fit. You’re the only one I can tell.”

“Snorkmaiden,” Snufkin said gently and placed a paw on her arm. “You can tell me anything. What’s wrong?”

Her fur went an embarrassed purple-pink. 

“Well…Alright, so, listen.” She took a deep breath. “About a week ago, I stayed over at Moomintroll’s house, I do that a lot, right?”

“As far as I’m aware, yes.”

“Well, this time, moominmama and papa didn’t tell us to keep the door open, so we thought it was fine to leave it closed…” her voice got quieter. “And so, with the door closed, we thought it’d be okay to just kiss a little bit.”

Snufkin raised an eyebrow.

“... and I suppose kissing lead to something else, which lead to something else, and…”

Snufkin’s other brow raised. “No.”

“Yes!” Snorkmaiden cried and covered her eyes with her paws. “But that’s not even the bad part! The bad part is that… it was nothing like I imagined it.”

“Ah. A disappointment, was it?” Snufkin said sympathetically. “How did you imagine it?”   


“I don’t know! Not horrible, at least.”

“It was  _ horrible _ ? What do you mean?”

“I mean it  _ hurt _ ,” she said. “And it was  _ uncomfortable _ , and I couldn’t even fit him all the way in and -- and -- why are you laughing?”

Snufkin pulled his hat down to cover his face, shoulders shaking with giggles. Snorkmaiden folded her arms and frowned. 

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “It's just…” he bit the inside of his cheek, but that didn’t work. “I hope you didn’t tell him you couldn’t fit him in. I can’t imagine the amount of stroking that would give his ego.”

“Oh my god,” Snorkmaiden was now giggling too. “I thought you were going to just stop at ‘stroking’.”

And now, Snufkin’s stomach hurt a little, and he waved his paws around as if trying to swat away the laugher. Snorkmaiden was laughing too, and she took hold of his wrist. 

“ _ I can’t imagine the amount of stroking _ !” Snorkmaiden cried, and Snufkin thwacked her on the arm.

“Be  _ quiet _ !’

They cackled for far too long over the immature joke. After they had calmed their hysterics, Snufkin wiped his eyes with his wrist.

“Oh, gosh,” he said. “Alright, well, it hurt. We know that much. Was there any preparation?”   


“Any what?”

Snufkin stared for a few seconds, before placing his paws on his hips. 

“What?"

“You’re supposed to -- I mean, you can’t just go straight into -- ohh my  _ goodness _ ,” Snufkin dropped his head. He took a deep, dramatic breath and said, “I won’t go into the specifics, but I feel like there’s a lot you don’t know. Do you want me to get you a book next time I’m out by a library?”

“A book would be fantastic. Thank you for stopping your judgement long enough to be of any actual assistance.”

“You’re welcome. Is this why you’ve been so unusual lately?”

“Oh… I suppose,” Snorkmaiden blushed. “I just thought the first time was supposed to be… Oh, I don’t know, special or something. But it sucked, and it made us both feel awkward as almighty hell.”

“The first time is always like that. Obviously neither of you knew what you were doing, so what did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Whatever I was expecting, I’m disappointed now.”

“Don’t be. It gets better the more you do it,” he told her. “I promise you, everyone was in the same position at some point.”

“What, even you?”

“Alright,” Snufkin rolled his eyes and put up a dismissive paw. “I see what you’re doing, you’re not going to squeeze any information out of me.”

“Oh,  _ do  _ get over yourself, you over glorified stray dog,” she retorted. “No need to get defensive.”

“Who's defensive, me? No, I can assure you, my jaw is quite unclenched.”

“Then you have no problem telling me about  _ your  _ first time.”

“I dare you to keep pushing.”

“Don’t you threaten me. You know you have spot for me in your little mumrik heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Snufkin replied. “But on a more serious note, I’m not one to kiss and tell. I’d prefer to keep my private activities exactly that; private. Even from you.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Snorkmaiden said. “But I want you to know that I’ll make up for it by telling you everything, so you better get comfortable with it, because I can’t talk to anyone else about it right now.”

“Oh yes, I’m very excited to hear about all the different ways you’ll pipe my best friend.”

“Excuse me,” Snorkmaiden poked him in the shoulder. “First of all,  _ I’m _ your best friend, not Moomintroll, and second of all, that’s probably the most foul language I’ve ever heard you use.”

“I have my moments.”

The two of them continued their walk, and the conversation changed. Snufkin didn’t think about the unusual aching in his chest that their talk had left him. He was happy for both of them, and he wasn’t going to start feeling jealous now. Why would he? He felt okay before he knew the two of had been intimate, why would this new fact make any difference?

“Snorkmaiden?

“Yes, darling boy.”

“I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me things.”

Snorkmaiden had smiled at him so gently that Snufkin felt nothing but love for her, and for a few moments, he had forgotten the suffocating feelings of jealousy — and for the next four days, Snorkmaiden was sure to sneak in the word ‘stroke’ in at least one sentence a day when around Snufkin, causing both of them to erupt with laughter, much to the confusion of everyone else. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snufkin had his tent rolled up by Sunday afternoon. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was to go, but he knew he didn’t want to stay where he was anymore. He thought about saying goodbye, and decided against it; it wasn’t as if he wasn’t coming back, because he was. He just needed a bit of time to sort his mind out. He didn’t want anybody to think he was just bailing out because it got too difficult.

Though, he supposed there was some truth in that.

He tucked his rolled tent into the upper strap of his pack, and stood at the end of the shoreline, where the water just barely splashed the toes of his brown leather boots. They were relatively new -- he found his shoes wore out very quickly, but this pair were thick and had solid soles. They were a bit fancy for his taste, with stars embroidered in the stitchwork that ran up the calves all the way to the knee. Where did he get them, again? He couldn’t remember. Perhaps he stole them.

Ah. Snufkin was aware he was stalling time. He felt guilty, leaving without a proper goodbye for the second time.

“Ah, taking off again so soon?”

He almost leapt out of his fur when he heard that familiar voice. A fair while beside him, Snorkmaiden stood with a satchel hung around her hip, staring out onto the water. It was filled with seashells. 

Snufkin’s face heated up from the embarrassment of being sprung. “Er… yes, but I was only -- I was going to come back.”

“I’m sure you were,” replied Snorkmaiden. “You always said you do. I expected you to leave sooner, if I’m honest.”

Snufkin was unsure how he should’ve taken that. “... I was planning on visiting Little My, and talking with her properly.”

“Hmm? But you don’t know where she lives.”

“... no, I suppose I don’t.”

Caught red-handed twice -- once in trying to sneak away, and once in lying, all within a span of two minutes. Snorkmaiden was very, very good at reading people, and she was especially good at reading Snufkin, even after all those years.

Snufkin suddenly felt sad.

“Do you have a notebook in one of those pockets?” Snorkmaiden asked him. 

“Why a notebook?”

“I’ll write down her address for you. It’s about a day’s train ride away, but I suppose you’d want to walk.”

Snufkin felt around his pockets, before pulling out a capped ink pen. “I don’t have any free paper.”

“Give me your paw.”

And he did, and Snorkmaiden took the pen and his paw in her’s. She wrote an address down on his palm. As she did this, Snufkin watched her face. Her fur was consistently white and her eyes showed nothing, and Snufkin was unsure whether to be frustrated or saddened by that.

When she was done, she held his wrist for a moment longer. Then, she let him go and asked, “when do you think you’re coming back?”

Snufkin stared at his inked paw and frowned in thought.

“I’d just like to know what to tell Basil, is all. She’s taken quite the liking to you, and I’m sure she’d be eager to see you again.”

“Uhm.” Snufkin’s voice was quiet as he spoke. “Give me a few days. I’ll take the train.”

“Alright.”

The sound of the water pulling in and out filled the silence.

“Moomintroll told me about your argument,” she said eventually, voice even and neutral. 

Snufkin blushed. “Oh… I wouldn't have called it a _argument_ , just …” He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

“He said he made you quite upset.”

“Oh, no, no, not at all,” he said quickly and hastily, “I just -- well, I --” he rubbed his eye. “... I don’t know. I got a bit worked up for nothing, I suppose.”

“... Snufkin, if i can tell you something just quietly,” she told him with a strange gentleness. “I don’t hate you. Really I don’t.”

Snufkin stared at the sand and didn’t respond.

“I’m having a lot of complicated feelings right now, but those feelings aren’t hate.”

“I see.”

“I just want what is best for my family, and for my husband.”

Snufkin frowned.

“And right now, he’s in a good place. Recovery wise, I mean. It took a long time for us to get there, too. I don’t want... ” She mulled over her words. “... I don’t want this to hinder his progress. Do you understand what I’m saying, Snufkin?”

“No.”

Snorkmaiden looked at him thoughtfully. “No,” she repeated him. “No, I had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

In and out. The ocean hummed. 

“He gets his hopes up easily, my Moomintroll does. He’s a very trusting person, maybe too trusting. He sees good in places where it doesn’t exist, and in people who don’t really have it. He’s easy to manipulate because of that. It's almost as if it's in his nature to be heartbroken.” her voice held a deep sadness. “Sometimes, I wish he wasn’t like that. I don’t think it’s very fair on him.”

Snufkin didn’t respond, but he felt something burn behind his eyes.

“... I hope it all goes well with My. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

And she walked away. 

Snufkin, in the back of his mind, told himself that he wasn’t going to cry a second time for the same reason.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday evening, Snorkmaiden brought back the seashells and she, Pudding, and Basil made seashell jewellery together.

Basil held up a bracelet made from tiny conches, and said it was for Snufkin, and that she’d give it to him once he came back. Snorkmaiden only smiled sadly, and told her she was a very thoughtful girl.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snufkin had stayed along the coast line as he walked, until the beach dipped too deep in the tide, and he had to climb back up to walk along the rock path. This town he found was hidden behind the large stretch of orchids, smaller than the one Moomintroll lived in, and was a little more city-like with neater looking buildings and pathways that were smoothed down. There were also roads, but Snufkin didn’t see any cars (perhaps because it was so late).

The train station was at the end of town, and was an open station. Snufkin used the last of his silver coins to buy a train ticket. 

It left the station at midnight, and there weren’t very many people on it, sans for a few drunken business-looking man, and some delinquent teenagers smoking something that smelt musky and bitter. He silently prayed nobody would try to talk to him.

He kept his hat on -- he had cut his hair out of his face, and no longer could hide behind it (though it was still long at the back and kept his neck warm). He held his pack in his lap and hugged it to his chest, leaning his head back slightly. When the train exited the town, the long stretch of plains zoomed past the window. 

Snufkin closed his eyes and fell asleep to the gentle chugging of the train.

He had multiple dreams that changed and shifted, melting into each other until there was no clear lines between them. They didn’t make much sense; dreams rarely do. There was an underlying feeling of loss, like he was looking for something he couldn’t find. He felt something weighing on chest. He heard the low vibrations of what could’ve been his father’s voice, but it had been too long for him to know for sure. He walked through fog. He tasted rain. He sat at a dinner table and ate something warm and tasty. He hid under a mushroom and kissed someone he wasn’t sure he really loved.

Constant shifting and dancing. This, and then that, not really knowing when it had changed. 

Snufkin awoke just as the train was coming to a stop. It had arrived at its eighth stop at six in the morning, and the sun was rising. Snufkin exited the train, feeling dreary and tired.

The station was atop of a hill that steeped down into a very small town -- barely even a town, just a few houses scattered about here and there. Snufkin looked down at his paw, then back up at the station sign. He was in the right place.

Snufkin stayed leaning against a tree and watched the sun rise. He figured it’d be rude to wake his sister up so early.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He left  _ already _ ?” Sniff said said as he pulled the wooden peel out of the stone oven. Snorkmaiden shrugged. She was piping icing on cookies. Both of them were working in the bakery kitchen, while Moomintroll worked the front desk, keeping an eye on the kids. “Jeez. So much for that, then.”

“He said he’s coming back in a few days,” she said. 

Sniff frowned. “Well where is he even going now?”

“To visit Little My.”

Sniff winced at that. “Ah. Okay. We’ll see how that goes down.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you think she’s gonna tell him about… ?”

Snorkmaiden’s brow raised, and she turned to look at Sniff. “Oh. Oh, god, I had completely forgotten about that. Surely she’d tell him.”

“I don’t know,” Sniff said sceptically, and reached up to the shelf to pull down another oven pan. “I mean, is it something he’d even want to know?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Snorkmaiden asked quietly

“Me? I wouldn’t, no,” replied Sniff. “I mean, I can’t speak for Snufkin, but… but i think I would just prefer not to know. It would just make me feel guilty for something that wasn’t even my fault.”

“You wouldn’t want to see him one last time?”

“Why would I?”

“Well… he’d still be your family.”

“By blood, I guess.”

“... you’d really not want to see your _father_ ever again?”

“Nope.”

Snorkmaiden was quiet for a few moments. “... okay. I still think she should tell him.”

“Okay.”

A silence sat over them. 

“I’m sorry, Sniff, I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Sniff looked at her with an uneasy smile. “Like I said, I can’t talk for Snufkin. Just that if it was me… I wouldn’t want to know about it. And if he wanted me to know, he could just tell me himself. I think that’s what should happen.”

“... maybe he’s too proud to tell him.”

“Then that’s  _ his  _ fault, and I don’t think Snufkin should have to deal with it.”

Sniff was very final and firm with his opinion. 

“Well…” she mumbled. “Let’s just hope whatever’s going to happen will happen before it’s too late.”

Sniff was uncomfortable when he replied, “I suppose.”

Snorkmaiden didn’t feel it was her place to comment any further, so she left it at that, and Sniff let her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. this chapter was supposed to be longer but unfortunately i cut it short just so i could get it out.
> 
> >>>>>>>>>> https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co <<<<<<<<<<<  
> please check out this link and help in any way you can. EVEN IF YOU HAVE NO MONEY THERE ARE STILL WAYS FOR YOU TO HELP.
> 
> i also want to take this moment to remind you that if you had money to donate to this dumb website, you better be donating to help the blm movement thats happening right now. and if you don't, then fuck you. you are selfish and evil. sorry for being so aggro, but it really pissed me off to see this website go WAY over their donation goal while also watching other good causes struggle bc ppl dont bother donating to them.
> 
> ok. thank you for taking the time to read this, and thank you even more for taking a look at that link. your efforts will mean something. i wont mention anything else about this in the future (at least not on this platform). thank you for reading my story. i will see you all in the next chapter.
> 
> <3


	9. Chapter 9

Snufkin waited until the sun was well and truly up before deciding to descend down into the small town. He almost tripped a few times on ledges that went down steeper than he expected, and tree roots that were more solid than he thought. Wouldn’t that be great, he thought to himself somewhat angrily, tripping and breaking his ankle in the middle of nowhere with only his sister (who really doesn’t like him very much) to help him. Wouldn’t that just be fantastic. 

When he reached the bowl of the hill, he found there was no clear footpath -- only buildings scattered amongst the bushes. He liked that; he also liked that there weren’t many people around, either, only an elderly hemulen woman hanging laundry out on a wire attached to two trees. Snufkin tilted his hat to her, and she smiled in kind. She didn’t have any teeth. 

He checked his palm, and immediately began searching for the number written -- 555. He tried not to get too into his head, and focused on that number and finding it. 555, 555, 555. 

He found it painted on a tin mailbox at the beginning of a walkway, and at the end of the walkway was a cottage. It was made of bricks and had moss crawling up the sides. It seemed cosy.

Making his way to the walkway, Snufkin took deep breaths to ease his nerves. He knocked on the door as soon as he reached it, because he knew if he hesitated even for a second, he’d never actually do it. 

There was about twenty seconds of silence before the door creaked open. 

Little My, wearing a loose coat over a night gown, looked at him. Her hair was down and hung on her shoulders, and her tired eyes were squinting at him warily. 

Snufkin stared back, paws gripping his pack straps tightly. Perhaps he was sweating a little, too. 

“... Snorkmaiden called and told me you were coming,” she said, “but I didn’t think you’d come so early.”

“I took the train. I didn’t want to stall any days.”

“I meant early in hours. It’s seven am.”

“Sorry.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

Snufkin paused. He hadn’t actually eaten in a while, but decided not to tell her that. “No.”

She turned and walked away, leaving the door open. Snufkin stood there awkwardly, until Little My looked at him over her shoulder and said, “well? Are you coming in or not?”

“Oh…” Snufkin stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him quietly. 

Little My’s home was not as large as Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden’s, and it also was not as tidy. There were an exceeding amount of knick-knacks and things on shelves and tables, and shoes had been carelessly kicked off beside the door. It smelt of melted wax and bread, and something else familiar but difficult to explain. 

He followed her straight down into the kitchen, which had a round table in the middle of it. She placed a tin kettle on the stovetop and lit it. 

“Still black, right?”

“Hm?”

“Coffee.” Little My seemed to have zero patience this time of day. Snufkin blushed. 

“Er, yes. Black, please.”

She stood on her toes to grab two mugs and placed them on the bench, before turning to Snufkin with folded arms.

“You can sit, you know.”

“Ah.” Snufkin sat.

“ _So_ ,” she began with a sarcastic level of blithe. “You have quite the amount of explaining to do, don't you now.”

Snufkin stared down at his lap. His paws were dirty.

“Apparently, when Moomintroll asked for one, you threw a hissy fit and ran off. So how about we a do a take-two?"

“I -- no, I didn’t,” Snufkin looked up at her. 

“Snufkin, we all talk to each other, you know that, right?” Little My asked impatiently. “So I know about little mini temper tantrum, Moomintroll told me all about it. Well, he didn’t call it that, but I think we both know you can do no wrong in his eyes. He never  _ would  _ call it that. But he told me you got angry.”

“I got… overwhelmed. I wasn’t angry.”

“You shouted at him.”

Snufkin felt so very small in My’s presence. “... I didn’t mean to.”

The kettle began to whistle. Little My turned away from him to take it off the flame, and poured hot water into each mug. Snufkin watched her as she spooned dried coffee from a porcelain jar into the water, stirring each one slowly. The spoon clinked against the edge of the cups.

Little My placed Snufkin’s cup on the table, and then sat in the chair on the other side.

She blew on her drink and took a sip before saying, “where are you setting up your tent?”

“Oh, er…”

“Because you  _ are  _ setting up your tent here. You’re not just showing up for one half-assed visit and then pissing off, you’re actually gonna make an effort here. Aren’t you?”

“I -- yes, of course, but --”

“Good.” Another sip. “So you want to talk now and get it out of the way, or do you need some time to rehearse your answers?”

“... we can talk now.”

“Great. Why didn’t you come back?”

Ah. Right into it, then. Snufkin stared into the dark coffee. 

“Okay.” Little My crossed one leg over the other. “I’ll rephrase that. What happened that made you too scared to come back?”

Think fast. Don't lie. "... the idea that nobody would be there when I did."

His words were chosen cautiously and he said each one with a careful purpose. Little My stared at him.

“Scared nobody would be there, or scared Moomintroll wouldn’t be there?”

“Both.”

“Why would that fear just come up all of a sudden?”

Snufkin took deep breaths. What Little My had said earlier rang through his head and made him feel sick:  _ we all talk to each other _ .

_ I’m gonna tell Moomintroll about your feelings for him _ .

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

Snufkin looked at her wearily, and Little My simply shrugged, no shred of sympathy on her face.

“You  _ do  _ know, you know that you know, and you’re just not telling me.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated to put into words, or just in general?”

“... yes. Both. I don't know, My."

Little My seemed annoyed. “You said you were fine to talk.”

“I  _ am  _ talking.”   


“You’re talking, all right, but you’re not really saying anything.”

“I’m answering your questions.”

“Vaguely.”

“Would you prefer I not answer at all?”

“What I’d prefer is for you to tone back that attitude,” Little My said bitterly. “If you’re just gonna mindlessly ramble on with your  _ ‘i dunno _ ’s and your ‘ _ its complicated’ _ s, then you can just turn your ass around and walk back out the door you came, and never look back at me or Moomintroll or Snorkmaiden or any of us. Because I'm not going to put in your fifty percent, I expect you to do that for yourself, like the grown man you are. 

Snufkin gnawed the inside of his cheek.

“So, unless you really can't be bothered and just want to leave now and never come back, I suggest you start giving me some actual answers. Okay?”

Snufkin reminded himself to not get angry.

“... Okay.”

Little My stared into her cup for a few beats. She seemed to be calming down a little. “Mum will probably want to talk to you when I tell her you’re here.”

He frowned at her, confused. 

“And I really think you should talk to her, too.”

“Why?” Snufkin asked. “And why tell her I’m here? Even you don’t like keeping contact with her. I don’t think she’d care either way.”

Little My didn’t argue. “I just think there’s something you need to hear from her. That’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just prepare for another conversation.” Then, “you can go set up your tent anywhere you want. I need a minute to get out of my pyjamas.”

Snufkin stood. “Sure.”

When he was gone, Little My poured the remaining coffee out of their mugs and down the sink.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Half a year had passed when it finally began eating away at him. Snufkin was just a breath away from sixteen when he realised something that scared him a little - he was jealous of Snorkmaiden. Not in a competitive way, but in a very real and hateful way. It was unnerving and frightening, because Snorkmaiden was his friend, his oldest and maybe his best.

But everytime he saw her touch Moomintroll, he wanted to bury his face into his grass and scream until his throat hurt. 

He had done an excellent job of covering it up. He feigned happiness for the two of them, pretended like he was totally okay being Snorkmaiden’s only confidant when it came to her and Moomintroll’s private activities, and he acted like it wasn’t absolutely killing him inside every time he kissed her, and everytime she kissed him, and everytime she whispered something in his ear that made his ears red and his tail flick.

He did a good job, and he did it for what he felt was a long time. 

Then, completely out of his control, the pot overboiled.

“Do you ever talk about anything except what you two do in the bedroom?” Snufkin snapped one day.

Snorkmaiden, who had been talking at the time, fell completely silent at the sudden outburst. She stared at him like she couldn’t believe such animosity had come out of his mouth.

“... huh?”

And Snufkin regretted it as soon as he said it, so he tucked his chin into his scarf and kept walking. Snorkmaiden stormed to follow him.

“No, you clearly have more to say, so out with it.”

“Ugh, it’s just…” he hated how whiney he sounded. “... whenever I’m with you, it’s all Moomintroll this and Moomintroll that, and when I’m with Moomintroll, it’s Snorkmaiden this and Snorkmaiden that. Any daft old fool would think you two are conjoined twins, don’t you have lives outside of each other?”

Now, Snorkmaiden seemed a lot more hurt than angry (though a fair amount of anger was still there.)

“Where the hell is all this coming from?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe from the past eight months of being forced to be your therapist?”

“ _ What _ ?” Snorkmaiden’s fur exploded in bright, glaring red. “You --! You said you were glad i trusted you to tell you those things!”

Snufkin inwardly cringed. “Of course I am. I mean, I _was_ , but hearing it day in and day out is downright exhausting.”

“I do not talk about it  _ day in and day out _ ,” Snorkmaiden cried. “If you had such a damn problem with it, why didn’t you just say so from the beginning?”

“Because I didn’t think it would become so repetitive, it’s all you talk about! Moomintroll too. I try to just spend time with my friend, and all he talks about is his pretty and perfect girlfriend, and how amazing she is and why he’d rather be spending time with her. Can’t you see how that would be annoying?”

“You’re  _ joking _ , right?” Snorkmaiden said. “You can’t be serious, do you know how many  _ ‘Snufkin is so great’ _ speeches  _ I  _ had to sit through? You’re getting all jealous and nasty just because you’re not the center of his world anymore.”

“I am not jealous.”

“You are! You’re used to him being completely starry eyed over you, and now he’s got someone else and that really burns you up for some reason.”

“Oh,  _ please _ ,” Snufkin rolled his eyes in disgust, despite the fact that that was actually quite spot on.

“It’s true, isn’t it? You’re  _ so  _ mad that his attention is on somebody else for a change, aren’t you? You’re  _ so  _ mad that he’s talking about something other than you. God, what a selfish thing you are, you were constantly on about how clingy and annoying Moomintroll was, but now that he’s grown out of you, it’s a problem?”

“ _ Grown out of me? _ Like he won’t grow out of you eventually too,” Snufkin spat. “Like you aren’t some phase that’ll disappear along with the hormones!”

Snorkmaiden gasped. It was a real hurt gasp, as if Snufkin had physically struck her, and a ring of wetness formed around her eyes. 

“You…” her voice quivered. “ _ You’re a horrible, awful, rotten thing and I can’t believe I thought somebody as nasty as you could ever be my friend _ !”

Then, she turned and ran from him, arm up to her eyes, sobs wracking through her body. Snufkin waited until her crying slowly disappeared into the distance.

It took him a few moments to realise that he was crying too. Tears of relief that it was over, tears of anger that he acted that way, tears of sadness that he made his friend cry. He wiped them away with the back of his paw, but they just kept coming. Snorkmaiden would probably tell Moomintroll about the terrible things he said, and then he’ll tell Moominmama and Moominpapa, and then the whole valley would know what an awful person he was.

He had ruined everything. He covered his face with his paws.

Days passed, then. Snufkin took down his tent from the river and put it up somewhere he knew no one would find him, even if they did want to come looking for him. He spent most of his days smoking and wandering the forest, and the rest of his time was spent staring at his tent wall trying to sleep to avoid more tears. 

The only time he had ever cried so much was when he had realised his father, who he had met for the first time in his life, had packed up and left without him after only a week. At that time, it was Snorkmaiden who stayed in his tent with him and let him sob into her fur; she had let him cry and carry on about what a terrible father he was, how he hated him and never wanted to see him again. The memory was embarrassing. He was only twelve at the time, but he still cringed when he thought about the absolute show he put on.

He didn’t have anyone now. Now, he simply curled up in his tent with the lamp off and cried as quietly as he could as to not disturb any wildlife around him.

_ I can’t believe I thought somebody as nasty as you could ever be my friend. _

Snufkin couldn’t believe it either. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snufkin chose an area beside a stream, a little further into the woods than My’s house, but still close enough to see the brick cottage. When everything was set up, he rested his backpack against the wall of the tent, and stretched his arms above himself. He felt a little bit better. Not great, not even good, but better. Little My, although frustrated, seemed willing to be a little patient with him. 

And then there was what she said about her mother, and how she would want to speak with him. Snufkin didn’t really understand why. He hadn’t seen her in a very long time, and hadn’t made any plans to see her again in the future. Like the situation with his father, she had seemingly made it clear that she didn’t need him, and so, he decided he didn’t need her either. It wasn’t her he was looking to make amends with. 

A frog jumped from the edge of the small river, landed on a mossy rock, and croaked. It shrieked when Snufkin’s paw came down on it hard and fast, and didn’t stop when claws pierced its skin. Snufkin shook it twice, hard, and the crying stopped. He held its limp body in his paw.

A frog wouldn’t exactly be Snufkin’s first choice for a meal, but the river didn’t seem very promising in prospects of fish, and he was hungry from not eating for nearly two days. After getting a small campfire going, Snufkin skewered the dead frog on a branch and cooked it over the flame.

He could probably eat it raw, in the same sense that you could eat a coffee bean raw, but some things are better prepared in a certain way, Snufkin decided.

Once the frog’s green skin had turned brown, Snufkin ate it, bones and all crunching.

The small crackling fire reminded him of other times. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On his fourth day of pity isolation, there was a rustling among the dark bushes while Snufkin was poking at his fire. Out emerged two white ears, and a pair of emerald green eyes.

“Snufkin,” Moominmama exclaimed when she saw him, her face lighting up. “This is where you’ve been… Oh, i’m glad I didn’t turn back when the sun started setting or else I wouldn’t have found you.” She was gripping her purse tightly in her paws.

Snufkin stared at her in surprise and didn’t know what to say.

Moominmama came forward slowly. “I know about what happened. Snorkmaiden and Moomin told me, but I knew I needed to hear your side of it.”

Snufkin still stared.

“Because the Snufkin I know wouldn’t act like that unless something was very wrong. So please, tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, we can work it out, alright? We can work it out together.”

Snufkin’s eyes filled with tears, suddenly and quickly. Without thinking, he leapt up from the log he sat and ran into her full force, burying his face in her chest.

She took the hug with a great sturdiness, and held him tightly in her arms. He cried for a little longer than he wanted, but Moominmama was patient and let him get it all out.

After he was finished, the two of them sat by the fire and Snufkin explained the most of it — not everything, as that would include having to tell her that he liked Moomintroll a little more than friends like friends, but most of it. He talked until his cheeks went red, and when he was done, Moominmama nodded in understanding. 

“... so I said something I didn’t mean to Snorkmaiden,” he finished up. “And that’s it..”

Moominmama put her arm around him gently. “My dear little boy. You feel things so strongly, don’t you?”

He leant into her and didn’t respond. 

“Jealousy is a very normal thing,” she told him. “Sometimes, you can care for somebody so much, you wish you were their entire world, even if you know that that isn’t possible. I think everyone is inclined to act selfishly because of it, and whoever claims otherwise is a liar.”

Snufkin nodded. 

“Jealousy doesn't make you a bad person. Its how we choose to act on it, and how we decide to make amends for it.”

Snufkin closed his eyes. 

“So I think we should go back now, and you apologise to Snorkmaiden, and explain to her why you’ve been feeling this way. Ok?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. Thank you for talking to me, Snufkin.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you for coming and finding me,” Snufkin responded to the memory with a low and dull voice.

He kicked dirt onto the fire, the sun now too high up to let it keep burning.

He had apologised to Snorkmaiden, had he? Had she forgiven him back then? He couldn’t remember; but she must’ve, because he stayed one entire year before he decided he would leave for good.

Or was it two years? Maybe it was three. Maybe they were younger than he thought, maybe he was only fourteen when this happened. He could only distinctly make out bits and pieces, but never the whole story. Maybe she never forgave him and it contributed to him not wanting to come back. Who knows? It was so long ago, now.

He returned to Little My’s house about twenty minutes after he had kicked the fire out. She was standing out front, tying herb sticks with thread and stringing them up along the veranda of her house. She stood on a chair to do this. 

“Rosemary?” Snufkin asked as he approached.

“Yes, thyme and tarragon, too,” she responded and climbed down from the hair. “They die out in winter, I like to preserve as much as I can.”

Snufkin hummed. “That’s smart.” 

She put a paw on her hip and looked at him. “I need to go to the markets. You up for a little trip? Oh, look at who I’m asking. Come on, hurry up.”

She bustled past him, boots crunching on the stone walkway. Snufkin was still for a few moments, before following her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added a slow burn tag bc re-reading this made me realise how little snufkin/moomin interactions there are in the first chapters aaaaaaa


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw characters talk about mental health/depression/etc. very vague, but its a little obvious what they mean

At ten in the morning, the sailboat knocked against the dock, and Moomintroll jumped out with the rope hung over his shoulder. He tied a knot over the cleat hitch, tugged it twice to make sure, and motioned for everyone to get out.

Basil was the first to jump out. She only got a few steps across the pier before Moomintroll stuck his arm out and scooped her up. “Hold on! Don’t run off just yet.”

She squirmed in his arms as Snorkmaiden climbed out of the boat. Moomintroll used his free paw to help her down. Pudding followed. He declined his father’s help.

Moomintroll set Basil down on her feet, but still held her middle fast. “Okay, Moominvalley,” he said. “Incoming in three… two… one!” And with that, he released his daughter, and she broke out in a full sprint on all fours, over the sandy dunes and into the grass until they couldn’t see her anymore.

“Moomintroll,” Snorkmaiden scolded, “what have I said about just letting her run off like that?”

“Its fine, we know this place like the back our paws.”

They trecked up the sand and crossed the grassy fields, Snorkmaiden putting an arm around her son and walking with his head pressed against her side. Pudding always felt a little uneasy leaving the house, and even uneasier on long boat rides. He’d feel better with a cup of tea, Snorkmaiden thought.

When the tall blue house was in sight, Moomintroll reached up his paw and waved. Moominpapa, who was sitting on the veranda with a book, squinted at them. When they had gotten closer, recognition crossed his face, and he heaved himself up from the chair. He went down the steps to greet them.

"Moomintroll! And Snorkmaiden, my dear!” He shared hugs with them both.

“Hi, papa,” Moomintroll said.

Moominpapa gently ruffled Pudding’s mane. “And hello! Come, come, it’s been too long since we saw you last.”

Pudding didn’t respond, and Moomintroll didn’t say anything about the fact that they were there only about a week ago. They had come to terms with Moominpapa’s memory after all, and were no longer stung whenever he couldn’t remember Basil and Pudding’s names, or when he couldn’t recall when they had last visisted. It wasn’t his fault. 

Upon coming inside, they saw Basil standing on a stool with her paws on the kitchen bench, jumping up and down, and Moominmama was already pouring cups of tea for everyone. She smiled when she looked up, her eyes crinkling.

“Hello, everyone! So nice of you all to visit. Sniff and Nappi aren’t with you?”

“No, Sniff’s looking after the bakery for us today,” Snorkmaiden said as she picked up Basil and sat her back down again, making sure she was sitting on the stool and not standing. “Oh, speaking of baking, what smells so good?”

“Pulla,” Moominmama hummed. “Fresh made this morning. Once its cooled, we’ll all have some.”

She dispersed the cups of tea; milk with no sugar for Snorkmaiden and Pudding, milk with sugar for herself, Basil, and Moomintroll, and black tea for Moominpapa. 

“Honey, don’t stand there looking like deer in the lamplight, come here,” Snorkmaiden took Pudding’s paw and urged him to sit on the stool beside her. He did so without a word.

“What’s so wrong?” Moominmama asked.

“The boat ride made him feel a bit rotten, I think.”

“Ohh, I’m sorry, dear. Sick rotten or nervous rotten?”

Pudding shrugged shyly.

“Not to fret, I have something for both,” Moominmama patted down her apron. “Won’t be a moment. There’s more tea in the kettle.” 

She disappeared down into the cellar, and when she came back out, she carried a small jar with dried leave. 

“What’s that?” Pudding asked sceptically. 

“Passionvine, my dear.” Moominmama popped open the jar and picked out a petal. Then, she crushed it between her fingers and let the powder fall into Pudding’s tea cup. “Won’t affect the taste.”

Pudding peered into his cup and didn’t seem to convinced.

“Eh… is that the sour stuff you used to make me drink, mama?” Moomintroll asked, pulling a face. 

She shot him a cool look. “Yes, and its not sour at all, especially when mixed with black tea. Go on, dear, it’s safe.”

Pudding took a slow sip of his tea, and didn’t seem overly bothered by the taste. Moominmama smiled. 

“Fumma!” Basil called from the hallway — how she had snuck off there all of a sudden was beyond everyone, as she was a young girl with a large presence. “Fumma, what’s this rock?”

‘Fumma’ was her name for Moominmama, and had originated from when she was a baby and couldn’t say ‘farmor’. Moominmama came across the bench and squinted to see what Basil was bringing her. 

It was the smooth, black rock painted with red and brown dots that Snufkin had brought her. She hummed. “That was a present from… a friend of our’s.”

“What is it? Is it a crystal?”

“No, just a rock, but I think the painting on it is special.”

“Can I have it?”

“Basilika,” Snorkmaiden said firmly. “Don’t put your farmor on the spot like that, we don’t ask such things.”

“It’s alright,” Moominmama said gently. “You can have it if you like, as long as you promise to take care of it.”

Basil lit up.

“Mama,” Moomintroll said, soft and embarrassed. “You shouldn’t just give in to whatever she asks. She needs to learn to accept when someone says ‘no’.”

“Nonsense!” Moominpapa then said. “Childhood is the only times in your life where things go how you want them to, and then you grow up and things go haywire. Why raise her to grow accustomed to disappointment? Let her keep the rock, I say!”

Moomintroll ears went red, and he looked as if he was good and ready to turn around and tell his father to mind his bloody business; that he’ll raise his daughter how ever he damn well pleases, and if he doesn’t like it, he can bugger off.

His mature judgement stopped him from doing that, of course, and instead he sat there with his tail flicking.

Conversation moved on. Basil wandered around the house for a while, before disappearing outside. Pudding seemed to a feel a little better, and even mustered some courage to ask Moominpapa if he could borrow some ink and paper. Moominpapa gave him an enthusiastic “of _course_ you can, my boy! No need to even ask,” and with that, Pudding disapeared upstairs to the study for a few minutes and came back down with a pen and a few sheets of paper. He sat beside his mother and scribbled.

After the conversation quieted down for the countless time, and Moominpapa had migrated to his rocking chair to take a nap, Moominmama said, “well, I suppose its high time I said something.”

Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll gave her a puzzled look.

“Have you had any, er, visitors lately? Any specific ones?”

Ah. Moomintroll looked to Snorkmaiden, who said rather blankly, “you’re talking about Snufkin.”

“Yes,” Moominmama set her cup down. “I was waiting for one of you to breach the subject.”

“Well, consider it breached.”

“So he’s been to see you then after all.”

Snorkmaiden looked at Moomintroll. Moomintroll said, “yeah, a couple days ago. He’s visiting Little My right now, we’re… hoping he’ll be back soon. There’s some stuff to clear up.” He had to stop himself from saying ‘expecting’, because he knew better than to _expect_ anything from Snufkin. Hoping was all he could do.

“I imagine so,” said Moominmama in a soft and thoughtful voice. “How are you… -- I mean, are you alright? Has this, er, what did the doctors say…”

Moomintroll frowned and waited for her to find the words.

“Trigger, i suppose? Has it triggered anything?”

Moomintroll was so surprised, he really almost laughed, but the concern in her face stopped him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Snorkmaiden still looking at him.

“I -- no, mama, of course not. It’s been years since all of that.”

“Well, yes, I know, but they said it can flare up, can’t it?”

“I suppose, but it hasn’t. I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“But if you do get like that again --”

“He’ll have all of us,” Snorkmaiden said very seriously to her, “ _if_ that happens. His recovery has come along so way, I would be surprised if it did.” She looked to him. He smiled lightly, grateful to her.

There was a small silence in the house. Then, Moominmama said in a low voice, “I told him to leave you alone.”

They both looked at her, surprised.

She continued, “I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I wasn’t sure how any of you would react. It makes me sound so nasty, but…” she paused. Then, as if she was admitting a horrible secret, she said, “I wish he never came back.”

That made them go silent. The fact of the matter was, saying that _did_ make her sound nasty. Moomintroll was always under the impression that Moominmama was very fond of Snufkin, but now he was realising that maybe that wasn’t the case anymore. He didn’t blame her. He couldn’t. 

“... I wish he never left,” Moomintroll said quietly. “I wish he never _had_ to come back, not like this.”

“Yes,” Moominmama said. Then, “is he going to visit the Mymble?”

“Don’t know,” replied Snorkmaiden. “Maybe. I was just speaking with Sniff about that yesterday, about if My would tell him about… Well, you know.”

Moominmama seemed uncomfortable at that, and upon glancing quickly to see if her husband was asleep, she said to them in a quiet voice, “he said he’d want to talk to him in person.”

Snorkmaiden lowered her voice as well. “And what if Snufkin doesn’t want to see him?”

“Its his _father_.”

“I really don’t think we need to reiterate Snufkin’s flippant attitude towards his relationships.”

“But if he understands the circumstance, surely he would.”

“I don’t know, mama. I thought so too, but how can we be sure? I think My should just tell him.”

Moomintroll then chimed in with a hushed voice, “its not up to us to decide that, and its certainly not something for us to be gossiping about. Can we drop it please? Its not any of our business.”

Moominmama and Snorkmaiden looked at each other, half guilty, half worried.

“Whats wrong with Snufkin's dad?” Pudding asked.

All three of them jumped, as if they had forgotten he was there (because they did).

“Er -- nothing, baby. We were just having an adult conversation,” Snorkmaiden said quickly. She shot a look to her husband that said _‘you’re right, let's drop it_.’

Thankfully, the uncomfortable silence didn’t have much of a chance to settle, as Basil then ran into the kitchen with her paws clenched, shouting, “look what I found! Look what I found!” It woke Moominpapa from his nap with a start.

Without waiting to be asked, she opened her paws and presented to her parents, brother, and grandmother, a fat and fuzzy caterpillar. 

Snorkmaiden just about jumped out of her fur. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The markets Little My was speaking of was in a different town, but Snufkin didn’t mind. It was about three in the afternoon when they returned, walking back from the train station. Little My had more-or-less demanded Snufkin carry the two paper bags full of vegetables, herbs, and other nice smelling things, but again, Snufkin didn’t particularly mind. Being bossed around by his sister felt somewhat nostalgic.

When they got back to Little My’s cottage, My told him to leave the bags on the table, and that she’d put the food away later. He obeyed.

She stretched and said, “ugh, what a trip. You know, I thought moving out in the middle of nowhere would be great for making people leave you alone, but the con is that there’s nothing around you. Half an hour train ride to get food, four hour train ride to see my niece and nephew, fucking christ! When does it end?”

“Ah,” Snufkin said politely, the only response he could muster.

A phone rang. Little My looked over her shoulder and down the hall where her house phone was. She then looked at Snufkin and said, “that might be our mother.”

He tried to remain neutral, but knew that his face had changed. Little My frowned.

“I’ll get it first. Get ready. Are you ready?”

She wasn’t letting him run away from it. Snufkin shrugged awkwardly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Little My went to the phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

A short silence as she listened.

“Ah, yeah, hi mama,” she said into the reciever, shooting Snufkin a look. Snufkin braced. “Yup… uh-huh. No, it’s been great, thanks for sending it. Yeah. Yeah, Its kinda cold here, but not too bad… mm-hmm… yeah. He’s here.” Another look. “I’m looking at him while we talk. Do you want to…? Uh-huh… okay. I’ll put him on.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear and outstretched it to Snufkin. Snufkin slowly came forward and took the reciever from her.

Snufkin inhaled, closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then put it to his ear.   
  
“Hello?”   
  
“Darling!” The Mymble’s voice rang through the receiver, and Snufkin squinted. “I’m so pleased to hear your voice again, it’s been far too long! Goodness, you sound so different, you still smoke, do you? How have you been, were your travels fun? Dangerous? Exciting?”   
  
He exhaled. He was glad his mother had a far more lax attitude towards his disappearance than everyone else (glad? Relieved? Maybe even a little disappointed).   
  
“Er, yes, there were exciting moments, for sure...” He looked at Little My. She motioned with her chin for him to focus on the conversation.   
  
“You must come up and visit us soon, I’m sure your father would love to hear all about it —“   
  
Snufkin’s blood froze. “What?”   
  
“— it’s been so long since we’ve been able to go anywhere outside the country, so —“   
  
“Wait, mama, stop.” Snufkin waved his paw, even though she couldn’t see him. “Joxter’s back?”

Now, he didn’t dare look at My.“Yes, dear, he returned about... oh I don’t know, six or so months ago?”

He felt his lips quiver. “I— why?”  
  
“Why? Well goodness, his age is simply catching up to him. He can’t possibly travel for the rest of his life.”  
  
Snufkin said nothing.   
  
“He’s lucky he had somewhere to return to before... well, let’s not think like that, it’s a happy thing he’s back.”  
  
“... yes.”  
  
“And as I was saying, you should come up and visit, we would both be absolutely delighted to have you.”  
  
“Sure, mama, uhm...” he looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears in his eyes from falling down his cheeks. “I’ll come as soon as I can. Promise. I just need to take care of some stuff down here, that’s all.”  
  
The Mymble hummed, knowingly. “All is well. I look forward to seeing you, my darling.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I love you, Snufkin.”  
  
“... yes. I’ll see you then, mama.”  
  
He hung up, and kept his eyes closed for a while. He feared opened them too soon would be like opening flood gates.   
  
His father was finally back. He had returned as a sorry old man with not much time left to spend his remaining days with the woman he loved most. His mother’s voice rang in his head: _his age is simply catching up with him, he can’t possibly travel like that the rest of his life. He’s lucky he had somewhere to return to._   
  
Yes. Very lucky indeed.   
  
When Snufkin opened his eyes again, his vision was blurred. He stood by the phone until Little My approached him cautiously, like she was approaching a wild deer.

“... so what did she say?”

“You already know what she said.” His voice came out more bitter than he intended. “My father has come back.” He looked at her with red eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me that right away?”

Little My watched him carefully. “Did she say why he came back?”

“I don’t know, I guess he got sick of travelling. What does that matter? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean, _that’s it_?”

Little My seemed surprised, and then sad, and then a little annoyed. “You’re not in much of a position to be getting pissed off at me. I’ll make us some dinner, and after that, we’ll talk about it. I don’t trust you to say what you mean when you’re all worked up.”

Snufkin opened his mouth to tell her that he was _not_ worked up, but closed it when he realised that he indeed was.

“Fine,” he forced out. “I need to go back to my tent for a bit.”

He left.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boat ride back was rather quiet, as everyone was a bit tired. It would be dusk by the time they got back. 

Basil sat on her mother's lap and turned the rock over in her paws, looking over the unusual dot patterns.

"You're very lucky farmor let you keep that," Snorkmaiden said. "Say thank you next time, okay?"

"Yes, mama," she responded, and later fell asleep to the rocking of the ocean.

Moomintroll leaned his arm against the structure of the tensile and looked out over the water. He was tired, too.

Quietly, Snorkmaiden said, "I think we could all use an early night."

"Agreed. It feels like the trip just keeps getting longer and longer."

"And things have been a little stressful lately, haven't they?"

"I suppose."

Silence. Basil took deep and slow breaths as she slept on Snorkmaiden's lap. Pudding was dozing off next to her, but not quite asleep yet.

"... I didn't want to say anything in front of Moominmama, because I know how much she worries," Snorkmaiden said quietly, "but I'm worried about you too."

He looked at her, and she looked down at their daughter, almost sadly. 

"I know its been a long time, but what if you relapse? What if it comes back around? What happens if this time, you don't fail?" Her voice took a strange tone, a middle ground between frightened and sad, and quiet enough to not wake the other two people on the boat. "I know there are things you still don't talk to me about, and that scares me. I already lost my brother, I don't know what I'd do if you... if you were to..." she couldn't even say it. Her throat closed up, and she closed her eyes.

"Snorkmaiden, look at me," Moomintroll said. He reached over and put a firm paw on her knee. "It won't be like that ever again. You _know_ it won't. I'm not nineteen anymore, okay? I mean, jeez, give me some credit, I've come this far, haven't i?" He tried to keep a good nature, to not give her any more reason to worry. "I take my medication, I see the doctor regularly, I got it under control. And let's pretend for a second that I do relapse, and I do fall back into that place - I know what it is now. I know how to handle it."

"I just don't want to lose you. I don't want _you_ to lose you."

"You won't, and neither will I." He leant over and kissed her. "I'm a big boy, eh? I can handle myself. I love you. I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you too."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. There was something melancholy that neither pointed out, but both noticed. The rest of the boat ride was silent.

It was indeed dusk when they returned home.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When back at his tent, Snufkin sat still and stared at the tarp wall for nearly a whole twenty minutes, mind racing and body completely frozen. Then, when he was totally certain he wouldn’t do something too insanely rash, he finally moved -- he gathered up his sleeping blanket into a ball in his arms, buried his face into it, and screamed as loud as he could until his throat wouldn’t allow it anymore.

And then he just cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised myself i would limit my inclusion of joxter in this fic bc i have a slight, inexplicable pet peeve abt him and how the fandom acts with him, but that was unfortunately overridden by my urge to make snufkin suffer as much as possible


End file.
